Scorpion
by DonJuanTriumphs
Summary: Christine accepts her fate the night of Down Once more. The Phantom and his Angel must learn to live together in a world of light and dark. Can Christine show Erik that there is still beauty in the world?
1. The Scorpion or the Grasshopper: Which?

**Scorpion**

**A Phantom of the Opera Fan Fic**

**By DonJuanTriumphs**

**Copyright 2006**

**Summary: Christine accepts her fate the night of Down Once more. The Phantom and his Angel must learn to live together in a world of light and dark. Can Christine show Erik that there is still beauty in the world? Can Erik show Christine that he is just a man, not a monster? Can some sort of compromise be made or will they be just to different from one another?**

_XxX_

_God give me courage to show you_

_you are not alone..."_

_XxX_

Christine pressed trembling lips to Erik's. His tears mingled with hers and she could taste the salt of them against her tongue. She pulled away to look into his eyes. Their gray green depths held so much sorrow and loneliness that she gently grasped his head and kissed him once more. There was desperation in the way in which he kissed her. As if he knew that she could never be his...he knew she was going to leave him.

Christine gasped and pulled away. His quiet sobs filled the suddenly quiet lair and Christine tried to smile to no avail. She realized in that moment that she could not leave him. Her lips found his for a third time as she pressed her small body against his. This was _her _angel, this was _her _phantom. No one elses. No matter what he had done she would find a way to love him. No matter how long it took to do so. Her life was insignificant besides his genius. He deserved more then she could ever give him but she was willing to try. If she did not who would? No one would be able to help this man if she was not willing to do so.

He frightened her. He aroused her. All of the things she should not feel for him she did. She knew his past and she knew the horrors he had committed but she wanted to show him that life could be found in his world of dark. Perhaps he would find redemption into God's gates...

Then there was Raoul...her childhood sweetheart. The boy who had promised her everything she could ever want; love, security, wealth, a title...and yet she did not know if he would ever be able to love her as much as Erik could. He was handsome and charming, the complete opposite of Erik. Women all around Paris and beyond would give anything to be the center of his affection.

He had protected her throughout the whole ordeal with Erik. She had needed him and his strong arms had always been there. Erik's obsession frightened her as did his temper. Raoul always had a kind word for her. Two very different men and only one possible choice. Her angel had given her music and song and she would always be thankful to him for that. Raoul had been her steady rock in a turbulant storm and he would always have a place in her heart. But she had to stay with Erik; he needed her more then he would ever admit.

"Christine!" Raoul's voice was desperate as he watched the love of his life give herself to a monster. Christine pulled back only slightly in Erik's arms to look at him, hoping he would see the acceptance in her eyes.

"I choose you," she whispered, tears coming to her eyes when she saw the disbelief flash through his eyes.

"Christine, no!" Raoul pleaded. She could not look at him or her resolve would shatter.

"You do not mean what you say," he whispered brokenly. How many people had turned from him in his lifetime? It was so horrible to think about that more tears coursed their way down her cheeks.

"I swear to you, Erik, please believe me," she whispered. Erik's head turned to look at Raoul who was struggling against his bonds. Christine's hand reached out to gently turn his face back to her.

"If you truly want me like you say then take me away from here, before the mob finds you," she pleaded. The idea of those men and women finding Erik and doing who knows what made her sick.

"Angel..." he whispered. Her phantom was crumpling under the weight of her acceptance. A part of him was unable to believe the fact that she would choose him over the handsome Vicomte.

"Erik," she said simply and in that one word promised him heaven. No matter what was wrong or right he could not let her go. He had to make this work somehow, had to.

The noises from above were growing steadily louder and Christine took Erik's hands. They needed to get as far away from here as possible. But Erik seemed rooted to the spot, unable to believe what was going on around him.

"Erik, please! They cannot find you!" she said urgently. Erik blinked several times before swallowing his doubts.

"This way, there are many tunnels leading out of the opera," he said. As he led her out of the water Christine glanced back at Raoul. His face was grief stricken and she pushed down her guilt. Raoul did not need her. There would be other women, she was sure of it. He would not live his life alone, that she knew. She wished him only the best and prayed that he forgave her for walking away from him.

Christine forced her thoughts back to the present situation as Erik led her by the hand through a suddenly dark passage. Her feet faltered and Erik turned to look at her.

"What is it?" he asked. Christine tried to push her fears away but had trouble doing so.

"It is so dark," she whispered. Erik said nothing for a moment.

"If...if you would trust me, I can easily lead us out from here...give me your other hand," he said hesitantly. He was already holding one of her slim hands but the idea of her allowing him to do so to the other seemed almost forbidden to him.

They had devolped a relationship where touching seemed unheard of. Christine seemed unfazed by the whole thing and slipped her other hand into his. He was shaking and fought to keep it under control.

"We will be out of here soon," he reassured her.

"Alright," she whispered softly.

This time Erik was the one who stopped. He turned to her and his gray green eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. Christine stared at him, pushing away her fears. She could do this, there was no reason why she could not.

"This is your last choice, Christine, me or the Vicomte," he said. Christine could not believe that he was giving her another choice. Did he really care that much about her that he wanted to be sure she was happy with her decision? It meant more to her in that moment then she would ever admit and she gently squeezed his hands.

"I choose you, my phantom," she said softly. He nodded his head curtly.

"Very well. Hurry, we must leave the opera before we are found," he said. Christine followed after him like a docile puppy.

**xXx**

Erik stared through the porcelain of his white mask at the little woman asleep on the carriage seat in front of him. Her hand was tucked under her chin and her curls tumbled around her chaotically. The gentle rise and fall of her breasts was reasurring when he knew he could very well be dreaming. He had taken them out of the opera through one of his many tunnels and she had hailed a carriage and they had both climbed in. That had been three hours ago and she had yet to scream for help or try to run away.

Was it possible? Could she really have meant what she said? Could she really want him, this broken soul with the face of a gargoyle? She had not said she loved him, he was very much aware of that, in fact she had done quite the opposite. He had prayed and prepared for this day but now that it was really in front of him Erik was actually nervous for the first time in a long time.

He had even gone so far as to purchase a house on the outskirts of Paris. It was large and actually requiered servants and he had hired ten in total to be at Christine's beck and call if she so requiered them. Anything she wished for he would give her without a moment's hesitation. He knew that taking her was the final straw. He was the monster everyone called him.

Erik could not let her go. As he gazed at her he finally knew what it felt like to love a person so much that you would gladly die for them. This little woman had made him yearn for a life he had previously thought out of his grasp. She had allowed him to take her away from her handsome suitor but would she find only horror in her life with him? He would do anything to make sure that was not so.

When they reached the manor house a light rain had begun to fall over the darkened city. Picking her up gently in his arms he placed her beneath his cloak so as not to wake her from the rain. Lights were on inside as he walked through the doors and Anita, one of the maids, saw him and immediately backed away.

"Did you have a room prepared?" he demanded. She nodded and shakily told him which room. With even footsteps Erik walked to Christine's new bedroom and was glad to see that the servants had prepared a fire in the fireplace to keep her warm. He set her down gently on the large four poster bed and could not look away from her for a moment, captivated by her immense beauty. Never in his life had he ever seen anything as beautiful as she and he did not think he ever would.

He would make it work between them. He would show her the beauty that lied in the night and how much he loved her. Hopefully she would accept him for who he was, he could ask no more of her.


	2. Scorpion's Den

**Chapter Two**

**Scorpion's Den**

Light fell across Christine's face, causing her lashes to flutter as she woke. A soft smile played across her lips before her memory caught up with her. Erik...she sat up in bed, pushing her hair away from her face. The room she was in was richly furnished with mahogany furniture. A window, taller then she stood sat open, a gentle breeze flowling through. Slipping out of bed Christine treaded softly to a mirror mounted on the opposite wall.

It was strange but she had thought for a moment that her reflection was going to be different somehow. How could a person go through so much and yet look no different? Her slim hands smoothed out the wrinkles in her _wedding _dress and patted her cheeks, trying to put some color in her face. Erik had said nothing to her her but today was her wedding day...a feeling squeezed at her heart and she did not know if it was anticipation or dread. She had chosen him. She would not turn her back on him now. She had chosen her fate.

With a few more adjustments she was ready. On quiet footsteps she left the room to find herself in a long hallway that seemed to be dark, despite how beautiful it was outside. Slowly Christine made her way down the hall, not knowing where she was going, but uncaring about where she ended up. Her eyes scanned everything, looking for a trace of life in this seemingly desolute place. She came upon a door that was guarded by a gargoyle head who stared at her angrily. She opened the door slowly and slipped inside, her eyes adjusting to the darkness that surrounded her.

She stumbled until she came upon curtains which she opened, showering dust everywhere and illuminating the room in a warm glow. She turned and gasped. This was Erik's music room...just like the one levels below the Opera Populaire. Music sheets lay scattered and strewn across the wooden floor. Candles lay in different position all over the room. Sketches of various objects lay in the strangest places and atop the piano sat a single red rose. Christine approached the piano slowly, as she would a feral animal. Her fingertips smoothed over its cold, unfeeling surface in silent appreciation.

She gently grasped the flower in her hand and brought it to her nose, inhaling its rich sent. Roses had played a unique role in her life at the opera. They had been tokens of her success and ability to please. Erik gave them to her and when she received them she knew that she had pleased her maestro. In this room there existed a whole new world. A world she desperately wanted to be apart of. Erik's world.

The door opened and Chrisitne jumped like a naughty child. A young woman came in, her brown eyes rounding in surprise upon seeing Christine. She was dressed in servant attire which consisted of a black dress with a white apron atop it. Her black hair was as dark as ravens wing and pulled away from her face, with a few wild curls fallling about her face. Her face became instantly wrinkled in fear as she gazed upon Christine so near her masters piano.

"Oh, no, Mademoiselle, no, no, no!" she said shaking her head. Before Christine knew what was happening she was being ushered out of the room with a very shaken young woman.

"Mademoiselle, please, I did not mean to cause any trouble, whatever is the matter?" Christine asked the bundle of nerves beside her. The woman was looking up and down the hallway frantically as if she expected a ghost to appear at any moment.

"You must never go in there, Mademoiselle, never!" the woman whispered, as if they were being listened to by anyone else.

"Whyever not?" Christine asked, curious. Would Erik mind her being in that room? She did not think so.

"The master...Mademoiselle, you do not wish to make him angry!" she said. Christine could not hide her smile. When had she not made Erik angry?

"What is your name?"

"A-Anita, Mademoiselle," she whispered, looking down at her clasped hands.

"It is nice to meet you, Anita, I am Christine Daae," Christine said warmly. The woman's eyes seemed to spark with recognition, as if she was somehow familiar with Christine's name. But that could not be possible for Christine had never laid eyes on the woman in her life. Anita shook her head before speaking.

"Would you like to break your fast, Mademoiselle?" she asked, clearly trying to remove Christine from her close proximity with the music room. The woman looked close to dropping in a faint and Christine knew it would be a wise thing to do as the woman suggested.

"Yes, I am famished, it would be wonderful to eat something," she said. It had been hours since her last meal. She had been far to nervous with the upcoming performance of _Don Juan _to eat anything and the thought of food made her realize how tiered she really was. Anita sighed in obvious relief.

"Of course, Mademoiselle, come with me," she said. Christine gave one last fleeting glance toward the music room before following Anita down the hall. She was led to two doors that opened to reveal the dinning room. A table stretched the lenght of the large room and windows lined the walls on all sides, all of which were shut, giving it an unapproachable look.

Christine's blue eyes looked about curiously as Anita exited the room to prepare the meal. She allowed her hand to trail along the top of the table as she walked. Dust collected on her fingers and she frowned. How long had Erik owned this house? Why would a man who seemed content to live in a cold and dark cellar suddenly want a home that he did not even come to?

It made no sense to Christine and as she seated herself she wondered if she would find the courage to ask Erik such a thing. The idea of a conversation with him, face to face, unnerved her. She had spoken to him many times, but he had been a supposed 'angel'. It was simple to talk to someone that you did not think was alive.

But Erik had suddenly and quite unexpectedly become a man. She had never been that good around men. Erik even more so because he seemed to render her unable to speak a coherent word when he was in the same room, unless they were singing. But the idea of Erik being a man was not something she had not thought of growing up.

She had fallen in love with her Angel of Music and knew it was foolish to love someone that was not there. Sometimes at night she would dream of him coming to her, her angel whose voice made longings stir within her that she had never given thought to before. When she was younger she had been overly excited to go to her lessons everyday with Erik. Even when he was being cross with her, which was often, she ws still mesmerized by his voice. The more 'experienced' girls were always whispering to eachother about the more pleasurable aspects of having a lover. Christine and Meg had giggled about it but her deepest, darkest secret was that it was always Erik she imagined as a lover, not Raoul. She knew these thoughts were sinful and as such she pushed them out of her mind.

"Here you go, Mademoiselle," Anita said re-entering the room. Christine smiled as the meal was put before her, her stomach growling in response to the delicious smell.

"Thank you, Anita, I am sure it is just as wonderful as it smells," she said. Anita was about to leave when a thought came to Christine.

"Anita, will Monsieur Erik not be joining me?" she asked. The maid seemed surprised that Christine had even spoken such a thing.

"The few times the master has been here he did not dine in this room, he hardly eats at all," Anita said. Christine blushed, feeling foolish.

"Oh...of course," she whispered. Erik would not join her for breakfast. The Phantom did not dine, even with her. It made her feel suddenly lonely. She had allowed Erik to take her away from everything she knew but where was he? Had she displeased him somehow? Had she failed something that he had needed her to do? She thought desperately but could come up with nothing.

"Mademoiselle, if you wish to see him...he has probably arrived at his music room now...you may go there if you wish," Anita said softly. Christine looked up from her plate, forcing tears away to stare at the other woman. In truth Anita did not know what she was doing. The master was a dangerous man and she should not send such a young and innocent woman to him. But Christine had looked so upset about him not joining her that Anita wondered what type of relationship the two of them had.

"I...thank you, Anita," she said, her eyes instantly brightening. She glanced down at her untouched food and grinned sheepishly.

"I find I am not all that hungry anymore," she said. Anita could not help but smile.

"That is quite alright, mademoiselle, you go ahead, it is not a problem," she said. The young woman nearly jumped from her seat and flew from the room. Anita shook her head with a sigh.

Christine had eagerly headed for Erik's music room but the closer she got the more her footsteps faltered. What if he was angry with her? One thing she feared above all others was Erik's temper. It frightened her unlike anything else and she prayed he was not angry for some reason. She slipped into the room to find the drapes that she had opened closed and dozens of candles lit. Erik sat at the piano, his strong back to her. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for whatever he had to offer.

But the sight of him seemed to shrink her courage and she was reduced to feeling like a small child, unsure if she had done anything wrong. She bit her lip and her brow furrowed as she thought of what to say to him.

"Have I displeased you?" she managed to whisper. She felt herself cower against the door when he slowly turned to look at her, his intent gray green eyes landing on her face. She swallowed.


	3. Frightened Nightingale

_"Please God,_

_let her love me_

_and I promise to be good forever..."_

**Chapter Three**

**Frightened Nightingale**

"Have I displeased you?"

Her words caused Erik to stiffen in his seat. He had not expected her to have risen so early after their ordeal the night before. But the tone of her voice caused sadness to rush over him like nothing he had ever felt before. It was frightened and lonely, the voice of a little girl who was afraid that she had done something horribly wrong to displease her maestro and was now cowering in fear of her punishment.

In truth he had been frightened to see her, afraid that he would see hatred and loathing in the blue of her eyes. He would not be able to stand that for he already hated himself for taking her away from her Vicomte. When he turned to her she was cowering by the door, her small limbs trembling in obvious fear. She still wore the wedding gown he had designed for her and now probably saw it as a prison forcing her to stay with him, the monster. Erik wondered what had caused such thoughts in her mind about displeasing and he frowned, not realizing that it was not a becoming look.

"'Displeased'? I do not know where you would find such thoughts," he murmured.

"I promise never to come in here again without you!" Christine said frantically, her voice breaking. Ah, so this was the curious mouse who had come into his music room and drawn the drapes? He had wondered who would have done such a thing. Christine had always been far to curious for her own good but it was something he admired greatly in her for he himself was of a curious mind.

"You did not touch anything, did you?" he asked.

"No! Only the rose, but I put it back immediately!" she said.

"Then I fail to see the problem," he replied. Her breath came out slowly as she looked at him, unsure if he was really alright about the situation.

"Then you are not terribly angry with me?" she asked. His only visible brow rose.

"No, Christine, I am not terribly angry with you," he said. She smiled, the action catching him by surprise. Had she just smiled because of something he said? Impossible! But she had, and she still was. She approached him slowly and Erik found every muscle in his body go rigid with both anticipation and dread. But she walked past him, to the piano, her fingers running lightly over the keys. She turned to look at him, her blue eyes bright with happiness.

"Would...would you play something? For me?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course," he said immediately, wanting that look to remain in her eyes. He sat down again on the piano bench and began to play. Christine frowned and Erik immediately became nervous. She laid her hand lightly on his shoulder and Erik's breath left him quite loudly.

"It is beautiful...but so sad," she whispered. Erik did not comment. She sat down next to him and Erik felt ready to fall out of the chair he was sitting in.

"Will you play...at our wedding?" she asked, needing desperately to say the words. The way he stiffened beside her did not put Christine's fears to rest.

"Wedding?" he whispered, his voice suddenly hoarse. Had she just said their wedding?

"Yes...that is why you gave me this dress, is it not?" she asked. Did she truly believe that he was such a monster that he would bind her to him forever? Did she truly believe that of him?

"There will be no wedding," he whispered. Christine turned to look at him in surprise.

"No wedding? But, Erik-"

"I said there will be no wedding, Christine, end of discussion!" he said, his temper beginning to rise. Christine failed to notice.

"No, it is not the end of discussion! You just decide my future and do not give me a say in the matter?" she demanded, standing. Erik stared at her through his mask, watching his nightingale grow a backbone for the first time.

"You decided your fate, Christine, the moment you kissed me," he said.

"You gave me a wedding dress...and a ring!" she said.

"I will take them back then!" he snapped, suddenly angry. How dare she mention such a delicate subject like marriage to him? Had he not been through enough?

"You do not wish to marry me?" she asked, the rejection going straight to her heart. She had allowed him to take her away from Raoul, away from the opera, away from _everything _and he was not going to marry her? Why was it upsetting her so much? She should be thrilled that Erik no longer wanted her hand! But...she was not. When she had agreed to go with him she had made the decision that she would show him all the joys life had to offer, marriage being included. And now he did not want it.

"I will not bind you to a monster so you may forever live in hell!" he said, standing and turning his back to her. That was it...he thought she still viewed him as a monster. She did not, though she feared him, but it had nothing to do with his face. She feared the power he had, she feared his temper, the things he must have done to survive...but mostly, she feared the feelings he was capable of producing within her. That scared her.

She approached him slowly, unsure and more then a little afraid. Gently Christine grasped his arm and turned him to face her, feeling tears well in her eyes at the sadness she saw in him. He had been alone for so long. She placed her hand against his heart, looking at the contrast between her pale skin and the dark material of his clothing. His breathing seemed slightly forced to her.

"I admit I am scared, Erik...but I need your help with being strong...can we not learn together?" she asked.

"I cannot bind you to me that way," he whispered brokenly, his warm breath fanning her face and stirring her curls.

"Erik, when I said I chose you I meant everything you had to give me...it is not a sacrifice on my part," she whispered. He smiled, the first time she had ever seen him do so. His hand hesitantly reached out and touched her cheek in a tender caress.

"You are braver then I," he whispered. She smiled.

"Then...we shall marry?" she asked.

"No."

Christine pushed away from him and fled the room, hot tears coarsing down her cheek. She ignored Erik's call and ran to her room, slamming the door shut when she got there. Her body was shaking and her tears were choking her...what had she gotten herself into?


	4. Beneath the Angel's Wings

_"The prickly thorn often bears_

_the softest rose..."_

**Chapter Four**

**Beneath the Angel's Wings**

_He hated her. _Those words were twirling in her mind and Christine could do nothing to rid herself of them. But...surely he still did not blame her for what had happened at the opera with Raoul...she had chosen him! Why should anything else matter? Was this his punishment for agreeing to help capture him the night of _Don Juan_? She had practically asked him to marry her! Christine had thought that was what he wanted...it was part of the reason she had chosen him! What had happened to change his mind?

She wiped the tears from her now swollen eyes and sat up in bed. She felt so lonely...she needed someone to talk to desperately. But who...the idea came to her instantly and she rushed to her wardrobe, searching frantically for a cloak. She draped herself in it and drew the hood over her head before silently slipping out of the room. Paris had grown dark as Christine went outside, a cold breeze sweeping over her, causing her to shiver.

Christine knew not where this house was located in regards to Paris and began to walk, hoping to come across something familiar. She glanced back at the house, amazed at its sheer beauty and size, wondering how Erik could have paid for such a place. Then she remembered all of the notes the managers at the opera had received in regards to the ghosts salary, Erik must have saved much of it to afford a home like this.

She turned her ahead away and continued her determined walk. They could not be that far from Paris and she prayed it did not rain. An hour later Christine saw the city lights and sighed in relief. She was not far away, just a little further.

The church loomed above her and Christine made the sign of the cross as she entered. Several candles were lit and she saw a priest nealing at the altar. She was relieved to find another human being and approached him slowly, not wanting to startle him. He seemed surprised by her appearence and she pulled down her hood to reveal her face.

"Forgive me, Father, I did not mean to frighten you," she said with a smile which he returned.

"There is nothing to forgive, my child. You are here rather late, is everything alright?" he asked. Christine nodded.

"Yes...I just needed to pray," she whispered. He studied her for a moment before taking her cold hands in his.

"You are missed, my child...many people are worried about you," he said softly. Christine's gaze flew to his. His expression was both tender and concerned.

"Father?" she whispered, confused.

"Yes, Mademoiselle Daae, I know who you are," he said. She turned away.

"Do not fret, my child, I will say nothing to anyone about your appearence tonight as long as I know you are happy where you are," he said. Christine hesitated. This was her oppertunity to get away from Erik. But she was not sure that she wanted to be taken from him...no matter what he had done. The people whom the father spoke of had to be Meg and her mother, but what of Raoul? She knew he would not let her just go away with the man who had haunted her for so long. She had silently prayed that he would for she did not wish to see him hurt.

"Father...the Vicomte de Chagny...is he one of whom you speak?" she wondered. The man smiled as he studied her.

"Yes, Mademoiselle...he has issued a reward for anyone who has any news of you," he said. Christine paled.

"How much?" she whispered.

"Thirty thousand francs," he whispered. Christine put a hand to her head, feeling suddenly faint.

"Mademoiselle, please, sit," he urged, ushering her to sit down in the nearest pew. Raoul was offering that much money for her? He couldn't! She needed him to forget about her, find someone else to love...she had to be with Erik. The father was looking to worried for her health and she needed to change the subject.

"What...happened to the Opera Populaire?" she asked. The man sighed and shook his head.

"It burnt to the ground...the managers do not even think they should rebuild," he said. Christine felt a tear come to her eyes. The opera had been her only home for so long, to think that it was gone tightened her chest.

"I will leave you to pray, my child," the father said, touching her hand lightly before leaving the room. Taking a deep breath she knealed and clasped her hands in front of her.

"Papa, if you can hear me, please tell me what I should do! My world has changed so much since you left...I need your guidance desperately," she whispered. She stayed that way for several hours until the candles burned low and the wind outside picked up, promising an unexpected storm. She did did not like storms and suddenly wanted to be home immediately. Making a hasty sign of the cross Christine fled the church. Lighting crackled overhead and Christine's heart began to race.

She was quite suddenly aware of how dark it was and could not remember exactly which way she had come from. She screamed again when lighting seemed to vibrate all around her, causing her to lose her balance and trip. She landed on the ground with a loud thud that was followed by harsh sobs. Christine's fear was overwhelming and she could not move from her place on the cold floor.

"Erik!" she screamed, knowing he could not hear her but needing to say his name none the less. She hated storms and she loathed the dark and she could see nothing around her, causing her to whimper in fear. Perhaps Erik would rather leave her out here then come for her, he seemed to not want her around.

"Erik!" she screamed desperately. Suddenly she felt a hand on her arm and she screeched, lashing out at her attacker.

"Leave me alone!" she sobbed. But the hand refused to budge and Christine began to struggle. She felt herself being pulled against a warm and solid chest and those arms wrapping around her.

"Shh, mon amour, you are safe now," Erik whispered into her ear. Christine sagged against him in utter relief, never as happy to see him as she was at that moment.

"Oh, Erik," she whispered, her small hands clutching desperately onto his coat. His arms tightened and he lifted her from the ground, cradling her against his warm and solid chest. She could feel the tension in his body and knew he was angry with her.

"I am sorry," she whispered into the material of his coat. He said nothing and Christine's wept, her tears silent. It began to rain as soon as they reached the manor house and Erik quickened his steps until they made it inside. Light finally surrounded them once more and Christine hesitantly looked up into Erik's face. He looked livid. In all reality he had every right to be. It had been foolish to go out so late at night without someone with her. He carried her to her room and set her down on the bed. Christine pulled her legs up against her chest on the massive bed as Erik began to pace, clearly angry.

"What were you thinking, Christine Daae!" he growled. He was making her feel like a child and she did not like it. She was a woman!

"I needed to pray!" she whispered.

"And you told no one? You had to sneak off in the middle of the night? Do you know what could have happened to you?" he hissed. Christine whimpered and buried her face against the pillow.

"Nothing happened," she said softly.

"No, because I managed to find you in time! Someone could have found you and taken advantage of the fact that you were alone!" he said. Christine balked at the idea.

"I am sorry, Erik," Christine said.

"Sometimes you act like a child!" he told her angrily. His face had grown so angry in the last few minutes that it was frightening to her. He continued to rant, but Christine had stopped listening, not wishing to hear him. She just needed someone to hold her. She slipped from the bed and went to him slowly, wrapping her arms around his waist as she did. Erik froze in shock, unbelieving that someone had just embraced him willingly for the first time in his life. His angel had tears in her eyes and she was shivering in fear. How could he have forgotten how timid she was in a storm?

"I am sorry, Erik," she whispered again. All the anger Erik had felt in that moment disappeared. He had been so worried that something had happened to her out there that he had allowed his anger to get the better of him. Her arms tightened around him and she buried her face in his chest, a clear indicator that she wanted to be held. Erik's arms began shaking as he tentavily wrapped them around her slim form.

"Please, please do not be angry with me, Erik," she whispered. Erik realized that he would give her anything as long as it meant she was protected

"Shh, mon ange, no more tears," he whispered. He gently brought her to the bed and lied her down. Her eyes found his before slowly drifting shut in exhaustion. Erik smiled and allowed his fingers to caress her cheek before he silently left the room.


	5. Demon Whispers

_"To see the world in a grain of sand,_

_and to see heaven in a wild flower,_

_hold infinity in the palm of your hands,_

_and eternity in an hour."_

**Chapter Five**

**Demon Whispers**

_"Why do you keep her here?"_

"I love her!"

_"She does not love you...who could?"_

"She chose me!"

_"Out of pity!"_

"No...she chose me!"

_"If you believed that were so would you not have already bound her to you?"_

"I cannot do that."

_"Why?"_

"Because, I..."

_"Am a demon."_

"No, I..."

_"Am a demon!"_

"She is an angel...she would not-"

_"Choose a demon!"_

"I _am _a demon..."

These words seemed to echo in the quiet music room as Erik sat at his piano. Wind moaned and rain battered against the window as the storm raged on outside. It had to be a few hours after midnight but sleep eluded him. An angel lie sleeping in a room not far from where he was and Erik could not get himself out of his own mind. In his mind whispers told him the truth about himself. Why had Christine chose him? Had she thought she was saving the Vicomte from his death?

Yet why had she asked for marriage? Was that another act of pity? When she was with him did she imagine it was de Chagny? Was every moment with him another hour in a prison she could not escape from, a prison like the one he had found in the opera? Would she always regret her choice.

"Erik!"

Christine's scream caused him to stiffen in surprise. The scream sounded again and Erik nearly flew in his haste to get to her. The room was not far but seemed to take ages to get to and he burst through the door. The room was shrouded in darkness but with his amazing eyesight he found a small little lump shaking beneath the covers of her bed. Soft cries and whimpers wrung from the bed and Erik tried to get his pouding heart back under control.

"Christine?" he whispered, not moving from his place at the door. Her head slowly left the safe haven of the blankets so he could see her large eyes and tangled curls.

"E-Erik..." she whimpered. Lightening flashed outside, momentarily illuminating the room and causing Christine to give a soft cry. He approached the bed slowly, his heart beating so loud it seemed to drown out every other emotion.

"It is only a storm, mon ange," he whispered in what he hoped was a soothing voice.

"I know..." she whispered, ashamed of herself.

"It will end soon," he said. She nodded.

"Could-could you light a candle?" she whispered. Erik nodded and went to do as she asked.

"Thank you," she said softly when the light of the candle illuminated the room. He set the candle on the table beside her bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress, trying desperately not to touch her. Christine sat up and pushed her hair away from her face. Erik noticed she was trembling.She began fidgeting with her hands as an akward silence descended upon the room. Erik stared ahead of him, at a loss for words.

The first tentative touch of her hand on his own had his whole body as stiff as a board. Her fingertips played over the skin of his pale hand before she gently slipped hers into his, holding it ever so gently. He heard himself swallow painfully.

"I remember, when I was a small child, you would always sing me to sleep whenever a storm would shake the opera walls," she whispered almost reverently. He remained silent, his eyes staring down at their entwined hands as if he had never seen such a thing in his life.

"I would always know that when the first lightening struck, my Angel of Music would be there to soothe me back to sleep," she said. He was about to say something when she continued.

"I prayed and wished that you were real. That you could hold me when I was frightened. You were not real then, Erik...you are now," Christine said. To his complete and utter amazement she leaned forward and wrapped her slim arms around his neck, pressing her face into his warm shoulder. Erik was unable to move under the weight of her arms.

"I am frightened, Erik," she said softly, tears beginning to catch on her lashes. She pressed closer and shaking arms wrapped around her trembling little body.

"I would never let anything happen to you, ange, you must believe that," he whispered. Christine did not reply. It was quite a time later before her soft sobs stopped, but by that time Erik was completely comfortable with her in his arms, not wanting to ever let her go. Her hand was making small circles on his neck, just below the edge of the white porcelain. A soft knock on the door ended the small fantasy they had created for themselves. Erik growled a compliance to enter and a very frightened Anita entered the room. She seemed extremely surprised to see Christine in her master's arms.

"Forgive the interruption, Monsieur, I heard the Mademoiselle scream and came to make sure she was alright," Anita said, looking down at the floor.

"She is fine, you foolish woman!" Erik snapped impatiently.

"Erik, she does not need to be spoken to in such a way," Christine whispered, seeing the way Anita flinched.

"She should know her place," Erik replied angrily, wishing the woman gone.

"I am sorry, Sir, I did not mean to intrude," Anita said turning to leave.

"Anita! Please, wait!" Christine said. She slipped from Erik's arms, much to his dismay, and made her way over to the young woman. Christine took her trembling hands in her own and smiled at the other woman who looked so frightened she might drop in a faint.

"Thank you, for coming to see if I was alright, that was very kind of you," Christine whispered. Anita stared at her new mistress for several long moments. She saw great compassion and goodness in this young girl. Then she glanced at the master. His scowl and the white gleaming of his mask gave off an air of pure evil...what were the two doing together? Was he forcing Mademoiselle Daae to stay here with him? She had seen Christine leave the manor and came back in the masters arms, weeping. Had he caught her and forced her to come back to him. She did not like the idea at all.

"You are welcome, Mademoiselle, I will leave you to rest," Anita whispered. Christine smiled and nodded, allowing the girl to leave the room. She turned back to Erik and wrapped her arms around her waist, a frown upon her lips.

"You should not have talked to her like that," she scolded. Erik stared at Christine in utter amazement as she berated him about his attitude.

"She is a servant, I may speak to her as I wish," he replied.

"Would you like to be talked to that way?" she asked.

"No, of course not," he said.

"Then why do you talk to others in such a way?" she asked.

"It is who I am," was his only reply. Christine eyes turned to stare at the flame of the flickering candle. A faraway look came into her eyes as she spoke her next sentence.

"My father used to tell me to treat others the way I myself would wish to be treated," Christine said. He stood up.

"You were loved, Christine, it is simple to show compassion when you yourself know what that emotion is," he said. Christine did not reply, watching the emotionless expression that came over his eyes.

"When I am shown love perhaps I to may be able to show it to others," he growled, stalking past her and out of the room. Christine sighed and wiped a tear from her eyes.

"Oh, Erik...I am trying to show you love. Why can you not see it?" she whispered.

**xXx**

Candlelight illuminated Anita's face as her hand trembled as she slowly wrote on the parchment in front of her. She was doing the right thing, there was no reason for her to feel guilty about it. It would make everyone happy if she did this. Finishing the letter she quickly wrote a name on the front in sprawling letters. The man waiting at her door to deliever it took it without question. As she watched him walk away she prayed that this was the right thing to do.


	6. Scorpion's Sting

_"All I wanted was to be_

_like everyone else..."_

**Chapter Six**

**Scorpion's Sting**

Christine carried the candle in front of her, jumping at every shadow she saw. She really hated the dark. But she had heard muffled noises coming from Erik's room down the hall and it was frightening her. She had to be sure he was alright. When she reached the doors to his room she knocked, not wanting to intrude, but desperately hoping he was alright. When she received no answer she hesitantly opened the door.

A large bed sat in the center of the room and Christine could just make out Erik's form. She approached him slowly, her body shaking in fear. The closer she got to him the more clearly it became what the problem was. He was tossing and turning in the large bed, the sheets tangled about him. He wore no shirt and Christine tried to look away but her virginal innocence made her far to curious. She had never seen a man without his shirt on and Erik was..._there_, so she just had to look.

Barely controlled power was hidden beneath the rippling of his pale skin. Muscles tapered into a flat, hard stomach. A nest of black hair splattered his chest before slowly making its way down to disappear under the waistband of his trousers. Christine felt a blush spread over her face as she looked away from the trail his chest hair seemed to make so sinfully. He turned from her, presenting her his back, and Christine was faced with the horrors of the scarred flesh. They appeared to be...whip marks. A shiver passed over Christine and she swallowed back her revulsion of such an act. How could anyone do such a thing to him?

Erik began mumbling, his thrashing never ceasing. Christine sat down on the edge of his bed, trying to make out his words, although they were incoherent. She set the candle on the nightstand by his bed so she did not accidently drop it.

"Luciana!" his cry was heartbroken and filled with pain and it caused Christine to jump in surprise. Then a frown crossed her smooth brow. Who was Luciana? She had never heard the name before and wondered who she was in regards to Erik's past. Christine wanted to soothe him and so reached out and hesitantly touched his damp cheek.

Christine had the breath knocked out of her when she was suddenly and unexpectedly thrown off the bed by the force of Erik's hand connecting with her cheek. She crumpled to the floor, tears beginning to form in her eyes from the intense stinging she felt. She scrambled back when Erik sat up, his eyes opening for the first time since she had walked in.

**xXx**

Her whimpering was what woke him. Erik sat up to see Christine lying on the floor, a pile of tears and whimpers. He had been dreaming of Luciana again, but this time he had seen her body lying crumpled in the stone, cold. When the cool hand had touched his cheek he had acted purely by instinct and struck...Christine.

There was a long moment when they both simply stared at eachother. Christine's blue gaze was full of tears and pain; Erik's green gaze filled with regret and sorrow. Erik had always believed that a small portion of him could not be a monster because he loved this woman so passionately. Monsters cannot love, and so he had thought that a part of him was human. But he had just hurt her, she who he had been willing to give his life to.

"Y-you m-must leave!" he said finally. The room became deathly quiet as Christine stared at him. She opened her mouth to say something but Erik's temper erupted.

"Get out, Christine! Get out!" he yelled. The way he had become so angry so fast scared her and she shut her eyes to block everything out. This could not happen! She had no where else to go, she did not want to leave! She had no idea why Erik was losing his temper. Christine had expected him to apologize and escort her back to her room...he was doing the complete opposite.

"Get out, Christine, or I will not be responsible for my actions!" he growled, clearly threatening.

"Lower your voice, Angel, please!" she whispered. He did not seem to hear her. He stalked over to her and grabbed her roughly by the arms, causing her to whimper in fear. He began dragging her to the door and Christine tried vainly to struggle but found it useless.

"Stop struggling!" he demanded. He was making her leave with him and Christine refused to let that happen. With one last frantic attempt she tossed herself against him.

"No, angel, no! Please do not make me go! I am sorry!" she sobbed. Erik's arms had come around her to stop her from falling to the floor. She buried herself against him, her body shaking.

"I'm sorry, Angel, please, please, do not make me go!" she pleaded. Erik froze in shame. She was apologizing when she had done nothing wrong.

"Please, Angel!" she whispered. Erik's hands came up and hesitantly wiped the tears that continued to fall from her eyes.

"No, Christine, shush!" he pleaded.

"I do not want to go!" Christine sobbed. Erik still had trouble coming to terms with the fact that she wanted to be with him.

"You do not need to apologize, Christine," he said softly. She looked up at him.

"But I am sorry!" she insisted. He smoothed the hair from her face.

"Do you know what you are apologizing for?" he asked.

"No," she admitted. For once Erik could not hide his grin.

"That is because I am the one who should be apologizing...you did nothing wrong," he said.

"Yes...yes I did. I should never have come in here! It was not my place!" Christine cried softly.

"No, I lost my temper when there was no grounds for it," he said. Christine said nothing. Erik's finger gently ran over her cheek, where the bruise was already beginning to form. He felt his breath hitch in his throat. How could he have done this to her?

"I...I am sorry, Christine," he whispered. Christine closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

"I know, Erik," she said. Erik knew the guilt would be with him for as long as he lived and though she seemed to forgive him he would never be able to forgive himself. Christine leaned her forhead against his chest.

"I am so tiered, Erik," she whispered. The past couple of days had really taken their tole on her and she was extremely exhausted. Without a word Erik picked her up in his strong arms and carried her to his bed. She snuggled into the pillow and closed her eyes with a sigh.

"Just rest, mon ange, I will let no harm come to you," he whispered. It seemed all the insurance Christine needed for she closed her eyes and quite easily fell into a deep sleep. Erik stayed awake all through the night, the whispers of his inner demons taunting him.


	7. News for a Grasshopper

_"Let it be war,_

_upon you both..."_

**Chapter Seven**

**News for a Grasshopper**

The sun lay hidden behind the mass of the ominious black clouds. Rain beat against the window in a never ending torent. Inside a fire blazed in brilliant shades of red and orange. A young man sat at a desk across from this fire, his blue eyes boring down into the parchement in front of him. A frown marred his handsome features as he read the words. They were written in a clean if rather hurried hand. It was polite and to the point and the young man breathed a sigh of relief before the letter was through.

_Monsieur,_

_It is had come to my attention that you are searching for a young Mademoiselle Daae. This letter has nothing to do with the money offered, I have no use for such a thing, but it is merely written in the hopes that I might perhaps put your mind to ease and help the mistress as well. Mademoiselle Daae is currently living under the roof of my master, a Monsieur Erik Destler, though I fear it is by no means the mademoiselles wishes. I fear she is being kept here by force and know that you must care for her, if that is so you may find her here. I hope this letter is good news for you, and do not fear, Mademoiselle Daae is well._

There was no name but the address of Monsieur Destler was written. Raoul de Chagny sighed and leaned back in his chair. Finally there was news of Christine! Though it distressed him to find she was being held against her will, he had to thank God for the fact that she was alright! He had feared the worst after she went willingly with that phantom, clearly trying to save his life.

When the mob had finally reached the cellar and untied Raoul there had been no sign of Christine anywhere. He had yet to end his search and had become desperate, offering a large sum of money for any news of her. Thank God he finally had some! Whoever this person was he was dearly thankful to. The thought of Christine in some kind of danger had kept him up more nights then he cared to remember. But who was this Erik Destler? Was it a name the phantom had given himself?

Christine. The thought of her constricted his heart and made a strange feeling enter the pit of his stomach. His little Lotte. He believed he had fallen in love with her that long ago day when he had went after her scarf and saved it from the ocean. When he had become patron of the opera house his surprise at seeing Christine that night at the gala was unexplainable. She had grown from the scrawny little girl to a beautiful young woman, with the voice of an angel.

They had pledged their love for one another on the roof top of the opera and he could not just turn his back on Christine, he loved her to much. They both could have died that night after _Don Juan _and he would not allow Christine to spend her life with a murdering monster. She was not meant for the darkness, only the pure light. He would get her back.

The address indicated in the letter was one of the wealthier homes in Paris, could that thing that lived beneath the cellars truly have money enough to purchase such a home? Or had he done some vile thing to gain the money? Raoul did not know if he wanted to find out. He called to one of the men standing outside of the door and had the man go and prepare his carriage. He had a visit to pay to this Monsieur Destler, for the man had something he desperately wanted back.

**xXx**

The rain had stopped for the moment and Christine pushed the hood of her cloak off of her head so she could peer around the garden. The roses held dew drops from the seemingly constant rain and the road and pavement were soaked. Erik had not been anywhere in the manor that day and Anita had said she knew not where her master went. Christine had needed some fresh air and so had come out into the garden.

"Mademoiselle, you may catch a cold out here in this weather," Anita warned. Christine smiled at the maid and continued walking, trailing her hands over the flowers ever so gently. Anita had insisted on coming out here to chaperon Christine and Christine had been unable to refuse.

"It is not that cold, Anita," Christine said. The woman shook her head and followed her mistress as they walked. Christine found her thoughts wandering to Erik, wondering where he was and what he was doing. How was it possible that she could fear him so much and yet become lonely when he was not around. He had always seemed to be there when she was growing up that his absence cut her deep in her heart.

Anita glanced up nervously at the ever darkening clouds. She turned to Christine.

"Mademoiselle, please, we should go inside, it will rain soon," Anita warned.

"A few more moments," Christine replied. Anita sighed and shook her head but followed the young woman none the less.

"This place is so beautiful," Christine murmured, looking up at the towering manor. Anita nodded.

"Yes, the master has exquisite taste," she answered. Christine agreed. Erik had always held an appreciation for beauty, that much she was aware of.

"Mademoiselle...do you hear that?" Anita asked suddenly. But Christine had indeed heard it and she turned her head toward the road, her brow creasing in confusion. It sounded like...horses. But who would come this far out of Paris? Who even knew this house existed, it seemed so distant from reality.

"Oh, God," Christine whispered, her hand going to her suddenly breathless throat. She knew those horses...she knew the carriage in which those animals pulled. As it neared the emblem of the de Chagny crest seemed to sear into Christine's eyes. Raoul...

"Who is that, Mademoiselle?" Anita asked.

"Raoul..." she managed to whisper, feeling the blood drain from her face. What was he doing here? How had he found her? Anita paled slightly as well before looking away from Christine to the handsome man who stepped out of the carriage. His face lit with immediate joy as he ran to Christine. The young woman was in so much shock she could do nothing as he embraced her and pressed a frantic kiss to her mouth.

"Christine! Oh, thank God! You had no idea how worried I was about you!" he cried.

"Raoul..." she managed again. He pushed some wayward curls from her face and frowned as he looked down into her eyes.

"Christine, little Lotte, what is wrong?" he asked, his face creasing with concern. Christine finally realized why it was she was in such shock.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. Christine had to look away from the hurt expression that crossed his eyes.

"I love you, Christine! I came to take you away from that thing!" he said logically, as if he could not believe she even had to ask. Anita was looking around them nervously, as if expecting Erik to come out of no where and kill them all. Christine swallowed and pushed away from him.

"No. You must leave! He must not find you here!" she said hastily. She could only imagine what Erik would do to them both if he caught them together in his home. Raoul seemed unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Christine, has he threatened you in some way?" he demanded, his face instantly becoming angry. Christine was quick in her response.

"No! Of course not! But he will hurt you, Raoul! You must leave!" Christine pleaded. The idea of him being hurt made her sick inside. Raoul remained stubbornly in place.

"He still has you under his spell, Christine. Break away from him!" he pleaded, the love for her never diminishing in her eyes. Did someone always have to get hurt in this triangle?

"Raoul, I refuse to see you hurt! Leave!" Christine cried.

"Ah, but Christine, it is a little late for that, my dear," a cold voice said. Christine, Raoul, and Anita all turned to see Erik standing not far from them. His eyes were narrowed and his mouth set in a grim line. Christine felt her heart begin to pound. Raoul turned to face Erik, pulling his sword from its sheath.

"No! Raoul, don't!" Christine pleaded. Erik smiled stonily. The words Erik murmured next were cold as ice and caused Christine's very heart to freeze.

"If it is a dance to the death you wish, Monsieur, I am ready."


	8. Death's Tango

_"Death--the last sleep?_

_No, it is the final awakening..."_

**Chapter Eight**

**Death's Tango**

Christine stared in horror as Erik pulled out his sword. A flashback of that day in the cemetary immediately coming to mind. If she did not do something one of them would be killed. She feared that would be Raoul, Erik looked more then ready to plunge his sword into Raoul's heart. She refused to see either of them hurt. She grabbed Raoul's arm, hoping to detain him from charging Erik.

"Raoul, please, this is surely a death wish! He could kill you!" Christine said, trying to make him see reason. He should never have come here in the first place. Raoul turned to her.

"I will not let this monster dig his claws any further into you, Christine! It has to end!" he cried.

"Yes, it has to end," Erik agreed, advancing on Raoul. Anita grabbed Christine's arm and tried to pull her away from the danger.

"Mademoiselle! Please! You will get hurt if you do not move!" Anita cried. Christine shrugged the woman off of her and tried once more to grab Raoul but the sound of metal clashing with metal confirmed her belief that it was to late. Death's tango had already begun. Raoul was a skilled swordsmen but she feared that Erik's blind rage might win out between the two.

Raoul lunged for Erik's side and Erik moved out of the way in time to thrust at Raoul. Raoul stumbled back but managed to regain his balance enough to fend him off. If one of the got hurt Christine would never be able to forgive herself!

"Did you think she would really chose you? She only went with you to save my life!" Raoul taunted, desperately hoping that his words would cause Erik to falter, for he himself was feeling his strength waining under the phantom's heavy blows.

"Raoul!" Christine pleaded. He knew nothing and yet she feared his words would cause Erik to lose concentration. But Raoul was not finished.

"You knew, Phantom, that from the very beginnng she would never love you. No beauty could ever love the beast!" he cried. Erik growled in anger and lunged, his sword slicing into Raoul's arm. Christine cried out with Raoul as he stumbled back, blood beginning to form on his immaculate white shirt. Erik takes the oppertunity of Raoul's sudden wound to try and strike him again, but Raoul blocks him with a firm hand, ignoring the blood on his sleeve.

"How does it make you feel, phantom, to know that you are holding a young and beautiful woman against her will, knowing that deep down she hates you for what you are, a monster!" he snickered. Christine watched in disbelieving horror as Erik's hand faltered, his gaze looking for Christine, as if to confirm Raoul's words. Raoul takes his chance and Christine's scream erupts into the cold air.

"Erik!" she sobbed, watching her daring phantom collapse to the floor, clutching onto his shoulder in absolute pain. Raoul dropped his sword and went to Christine while his enemy lay in cold blood at their feet.

"Come, Christine, he cannot stop us!" Raoul said, taking her hand. Christine becomes angry and shoves him away.

"I do not want to go with you, Raoul!" she screamed at him. His face mirrored his confusion.

"What?"

"I chose him! Can you not accept that?" she demanded.

"Christine-"

"Go, Raoul!" she screamed.

"I will come back for you," he promised. Christine was not listening, she had already run to Erik's side. Raoul climbed into his carriage, promising himself that he would get her out of there. She did not know what she was saying, if he had to he would take her away by force.

**xXx**

"Christine..."

"Shhh, Erik, do not use what strenght you have," she whispered, bathing the left side of his face with cool water. He shifted slightly and groaned. His skin was an angry red color, the result of the fever he was getting. She had removed his shirt in order to get to the wound and the candlelight reflected the sweat that coated his skin. With Anita's help they had cleaned and stitched the wound Raoul had given him and now Christine was only trying to keep him cool.

"You should have left with him," he whispered. Christine sighed deeply.

"Erik, I find that we have already had this discussion," she said softly.

"What conversation is that?" he wondered.

"The one where I tell you over and over again that I chose you. It is not my fault you fail to believe me," she said, suddenly very tiered. She felt as if she had been running for a long time and just wanted to lay down and rest. It was hard for her to deal with all of this.

"Christine-"

"Just rest, Erik, I will come back and make sure you are alright," she whispered, getting up and leaving the room. She needed Erik to realize soon that she could not take much more. Did he want her with him or not?

**xXx**

Erik watched Christine leave and sighed, turning his head to stare out the window. When he had seen her with Raoul today in front of his home, a rage unlike anything he had ever felt before in his life had consumed him. He had felt as if she were his woman and Raoul had no right being anywhere near her. But of course she was not his...he had made sure of that when he had denied marrying her. But what if he did marry her? She would be his. He would be able to protect her and Raoul would never be able to take her away from him.

But he feared her hatred. He feared that she would hate him forever if he made her his wife. Wife. Such a strong word, a binding word. She would be his forever, until death parted them. Would she truly accept such a thing. The more he thought about it the more the idea appealed to him. But he could not just demand her hand, no, he had to make is something she would always remember. She deserved that, much more then that if he was completely honest.

And a ring, she would need a ring. But not just any ring, a beautiful ring that she would be proud to wear on her finger. Raoul's words from earlier, however, rang in his mind. He knew Raoul said them only to make him lose concentration, but what if they were true.

Could he make her love him? Was he strong enough to try? He decided he had been waiting long enough. He would never know if he did not try. He would try, if she refused him he would let her go back to her precious Vicomte.


	9. Wooing the Nightingale

_"The greatest thing you'll ever learn,_

_is just to love,_

_and be loved in return..."_

**Chapter Nine**

**Wooing the Nightingale**

Christine pulled the drapes open in Erik's room, wanting to bring some light into the dank room. It had been a whole week since the swordfight and Erik's wound, thankfully, was healing quite nicely. She turned to him from her place at the window, a soft smile playing across her lips at the sight of him sleeping so soundly. The masked side of his face was turned from her and Christine was only given a glimpse of his flawless side.

_How handsome he would have been if not for that deformed side. _The thought entered her mind before she could stop it and she sighed. She needed company desperately. Anita was always busy doing something around the house and Erik was asleep most of the day. Although she was more then glad to see him sleeping so much. She wondered if he had ever been able to sleep so fitfully down in that cold cellar.

"Christine?" Erik murmured. Christine's head turned quickly to look at him, causing her curls to bounce. He was wincing against the harsh light from the window as he tried to locate her in the room. She immediately went to his bedside.

"Erik?" she whispered. His eyes found hers and he seemed to relax. Christine smiled and sat down beside him.

"Is there something I can get for you?" she asked, expecting him to say no and close his eyes. He seemed not to want anything to do with her.

"Could you read something to me?" he asked. Christine blinked in surprise but could not contain her smile.

"Of course! Let me go and get a book!" she said happily, nearly running from the room.

**xXx**

Erik waited patiently for Christine to come back with the book. He needed to someone show his love for her and a good way to begin was to spend some time with her, something that would not be to hard since he thought of her constantly. She came in moments later with a book in her hand and a bright smile upon her lips.

"I found one," she said happily, sitting down in a chair not far from him. Erik frowned, that would not due.

"Sit on the bed, Christine," he instructed. Christine glanced up at him in surprise and slowly did as she was told. She settled her skirts about her and pushed her hair from her face, getting herself comfortable. Erik closed his eyes when she began to read, getting completely caught up in the sound of her voice. He felt a smile turn up the corner of his mouth at the way she changed her voice for the many different characters.

Without fully realizing what he was doing Erik found his hand reaching for hers, gently grasping it in his own. Christine's voice faltered only slightly at his touch before she continued to read. Erik's thoughts slowly wandered away from the story. _Who would have known how soft a womans hand could be? Would the rest of her body feel the same?_

The idea of Christine naked caused him to groan. He could not think that way toward her, it was not right. He felt her hand gently squeeze him.

"Erik?" she whispered. Erik's body had grown tense and hard at the first touch of Christine's hands but her soft, nearly breathless whisper put him over the edge into a realm he had no business being but was to far gone to pull himself out from. His eyes opened to see Christine staring at him strangely. She was so beautiful with her blue eyes and flawless features.

The book tumbled to the ground as Erik gently tugged Christine toward him, unable to move completely due to his condition. Her eyes widened slightly when his large, warm hands cupped her face. His eyes were on hers and they did not waver, although deep inside he was trembling in fear. If she pulled away or blanched he did not know what he would do.

Her small, pale hands landed palm down on his chest, trying to keep her balance. Very gently Erik pressed his lips against Christine's, causing her eyes to widen in surprise. Her lips were so soft, just like he remembered them being that night in the opera. He refused to frighten her or take the kiss any further then chaste one he was giving her now. He pulled away to stare into her eyes.

She was changing him. How he did not know, and when it had begun to happen he had not a clue, but he knew it was for the better. She was showing him light in the darkness, something he had never believed would happen to him.

"Thank you," he whispered. Christine's smooth brow creased in confusion.

"W-what?" she asked, still completely bewildered from his kiss.

"Thank you...for everything," he whispered. Christine's shock was apparent. She had never heard him thank anyone for anything before, and the idea that he was doing so now had her more then surprised.

"Your welcome, Erik," she whispered.

**xXx**

"Mademoiselle?" Anita said, knocking softly on Christine's chamber door. Christine turned from her place at the windown to smile at the woman. She had been daydreaming again, something she had been doing for the past two days since Erik's kiss. He was now able to walk and often left his room to compose music. She could hear the sound of his piano playing long into the late hours of the night.

"Yes, Anita?" Christine asked.

"I was told to give these to you," she replied, holding out a vase full of the most beautiful red roses Christine had ever seen. She gasped and went to take them from the other woman, a wide smile playing on her lips. Anita left the room as Christine put the flowers on the table beside her bed. Erik was the only one who could have given them to her and she smiled in absolute joy. He was changing. She was sure of it. It was hardly apparent now but she was sure it was there.

She flew from her room in her haste to get to Erik and thank him for the roses.Was this a sign that he truly did want her to be with him? She hoped so.

**A/N: This chapter was short and full of fluff but the next chapter will once more delve into the darker aspects of things, I am grateful to all who have reviewed! thanks!**


	10. A Proposal from a Scorpion

_"You know you are in love  
when you see the world in her eyes,  
and her eyes everywhere in the world..."_

**Chapter Ten**

**A Proposal from a Scorpion**

"Mademoiselle?" Anita said, coming into the dining room where Christine now ate.

"Yes?"

"A letter came for you today," Anita said. Christine looked up in both surprise and confusion. Who would write to her? No one knew where she had gone. She took the letter from the maid and slowly opened it, wondering who in the world it could be from. She glanced down at the name at the end of the letter and gasped in surprised pleasure. Meg Giry! Oh, how she had missed her childhood friend! But how had Meg found her? She decided to worry about that later and eagerly began reading.

_Christine,_

_Oh, I have missed you terribly! I hope everything is going well for you and you are happy with the Vicomte. Mother and I have been worried about you and I would desperately like to see you! Do you think you could possibly meet me for supper tomorrow evening at the little cafe down the street from the opera? I would be so pleased to see you, please try and come!_

_All my love, Meg_

Christine smiled. She had missed the woman she thought of as a sister dearly and was so glad to finally have some contact with her. The idea of getting out of the house and into the city was appealing as well. She had a lot to tell Meg, the first being she was not with Raoul. Now to find Erik and let him know.

**xXx**

"Absolutely not!" he said infuriatingly calm. Christine took a deep breath. He was being unreasonable about the whole situation and he knew it.

"Erik, all I want to do is go and have supper with a friend," she said softly. Erik turned away from her and placed his hands on the keys of his piano.

"I said no, Christine, end of discussion," he said, beginning to play. Christine felt her fist clench in anger. Why did he not want her to go?

"Well until you give me a valid reason why I cannot go I plan on leaving in an hours time," she replied, turning to leave the room.

"Stop right there, Christine," he hissed, his voice suddenly cold and lifeless. Christine froze in midstride. She felt him come up behind her and Christine had to surpress her shiver.

"I said no, and you will listen to me," he growled against her ear. Christine turned to face him, their breath mingling with their close proximity.

"I just want to know why," she whispered, her blue eyes holding his green one.

"My reasons why are my own, you will obey me in this," he said softly.

"You have no right to tell what I can and cannot do," she whispered. This seemed to take Erik by surprise and he said nothing for several long moments.

"Really? And why is that?" he asked.

"I do not belong to you," Christine replied, realizing she could use this oppertunity to her advantage.

"You do and always will belong to _me_, Christine, do not doubt that," he hissed. Christine backed away from him, shaking her head.

"No. Until it is your ring upon my finger I belong to no one, especially not you," she replied. He smiled grimly and reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling something out and closing his fist around it.

"Then I hope this will do," he whispered, looking away from her the same instant he offered her his hand. Christine walked toward him slowly, a million thoughts racing through her mind. He sucked in a long breath when her hand touched his. Very gently she pried his fingers away from what it was he was holding so tightly. Christine gasped and her eyes frantically searched his.

In his hand lay the most beautiful ring Christine had ever seen. The ruby it had was ruby red in color, a shade that could put the most brightest blood to shame. It seemed to gleam from the candlelight and Christine felt her hand shaking as she gently picked it up, almost afraid to touch it. She looked at it closely, almost unbelieving that it was real and in front of her. Once more Christine's eyes found Erik's.

"Are...are you asking me to marry you?" she whispered. She had wanted this desperately but had not believed he would ask her so soon. Erik sighed and ran an agitated hand through his hair.

"I believe that is what it signifies when a man gives a woman a ring. Perhaps I am wrong, is that not how you humans do it?" he asked. A smile spread across Christine's face.

"Yes...yes, that is how we do it," she whispered. Before she could help it she had begun to cry. Erik's face creased in a frown.

"Christine...I did not mean to upset you...please do not cry," he pleaded. He had not expected this reaction. He had expected many things, but this was not one of them.

"Y-you did not upset me...I am happy!" she whispered. Erik froze, wondering if he had heard her correctly.

"What?" he whispered. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist. Erik stood stiffly in her arms. Christine looked up at him with a smile.

"Yes...I say yes," she said softly. Erik had no choice but to turn away from her. There was no way this was happening, was it possible that she had just accepted his proposal? He glanced at her. She was slipping the ring onto her finger with trembling hands. Her eyes were round in delight.

"Oh, it so beautiful, Erik," she whispered. Erik turned away from the admiration he heard in her voice. He did not deserve to hear that tone from her.

"Erik...are you alright?" she asked softly, lying her hand on his back. He tensed only slightly under her touch.

"I am fine, Christine...you may go and have supper with Meg if you so wish," he whispered. Christine smiled, although she was bewildered by his acceptance and sudden melancholy. She turned his face gently towards her and pressed her lips to his, just like he had done in her room. She pulled away and smiled as brightly as she ever had before.

"You will make a wonderful husband, Erik, I just know it," she whispered, meaning it more then he could know.

**xXx**

Christine glanced up at the sky as Erik's carriage took her to the city. She realized it was going to rain before she reached Paris and she sighed. Such dismal weather. She looked at the ring resting on her finger and smiled. The ring itself was beautiful but it was the man who had given it to her that was on her mind. Erik...she was going to be his future bride.

The idea both frightened and scared her. She wanted to show him life in a different perspective and this would help her in that quest. It would show him that he was loved. She felt something hit the carriage and suddenly they were stopping. The carriage door opened and to her complete and utter disbelief Raoul climbed in. He hit the top of the carriage and they began to move once more.

"Raoul?"

"I knew you would come if I wrote to you as Meg," he said, satisfied. Christine gasped.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

"Home."


	11. Letting Go

_"Maybe some people just aren't meant to be in our lives forever. _

_Maybe some people are just passing through._

_It's like some people just come through our lives to bring us something:_

_a gift, a blessing, a lesson we need to learn, and that's why they're here... _

_you'll have that gift forever._

**Chapter Eleven**

**Letting Go**

"Oh, Raoul, what have you done," she whispered. The handsome man frowned.

"Christine, what has happened to you?" he asked softly. She was not the same little Lotte from the opera and from his childhood. She had changed somehow.

"Nothing has happened to me, Raoul! Why can you not leave well enough alone?" she asked.

"Leave well enough alone? Christine, I pledged my love for you that night on the roof top. You asked me if I loved you and I told you how much I did! Then you leave with another man! What do you want me to think!" he asked. Christine turned her head away, suddenly feeling very guilty. He was right. She really did owe him explanation, she knew he cared deeply for her and it was only right.

"Raoul...you are right. There are many things I need to discuss with you," she whispered. Raoul leaned back in his chair.

"Good, because I have all the time in the world," he replied. Christine stared out the window for several long moments, trying to collect her thoughts.

"Erik..."

"Who?" Raoul interrupted.

"The phantom," she confirmed.

"So it has a name?" he asked, surprised. Christine's eyes flashed.

"Yes, he has a name, Raoul!" Christine said angrily. The young man shook his head and asked her to continue.

"Erik...I understand him," she began softly.

"As do I. He is a murderer with the face of a devil. That is not hard to understand, Christine," Raoul said.

"If you continue to interrupt me then I no longer wish to have this conversation with you," she snapped. Raoul sighed.

"Forgive me, please continue," he apologized. Christine looked down at her clasped hands, smiling at the ring upon her finger.

"We both know what it is to lose someone, we both know what it is like to be alone. We are one in the same really," she whispered, a smile playing across her face as she thought of her masked man. Her feelings towards him were changing rapidly.

"When I kissed him in his home that night of _Don Juan_...I cannot explain it, Raoul, but I knew I could never leave him. He needs me," she whispered, looking up at him, "Can you understand that?"

"You...love him," Raoul whispered hoarsely, the realization barely coming to him. Christine looked away from the man she had only so recently loved with all her heart.

"I-"

"Do not deny it, Christine, it will get neither of us anywhere," he said sadly. Christine leaned over in the carriage seat and took his stiff hands. He almost flinched.

"Raoul...I care for you, truly I do. I cannot bear to think that you will be forever angry towards me for my choice," she whispered. Raoul looked at her for a long time. Her eyes were round and innocent as she looked at him, pleading with him to understand.

How could he understand? She was choosing a man who had murdered countless people and who hid beneath his mask a face his own mother never could love. How could his young, innocent Christine even be strong enough to love such a man?

"Please, Raoul...he is where I belong," she whispered.

"He has killed countless people, my love," he whispered.

"I cannot change his past, Raoul, but I can try and make his future brighter," Christine whispered. Raoul finally realized what it was that had changed about his Lotte. She had grown up.

In making her choice to stay with the Phantom she had become a woman more then capable of taking care of herself and doing what she thought was best. And she believed that this mask man needed her. Who was he to doubt it? One thing he was certain of was the fact that this masked man would never harm Christine. He knew he would hurt others without a single shred of remorse, but something in that man forbid him to even think of hurting her, Raoul knew that, and it did little to help calm his nerves.

"Raoul, I have to go back to him, no matter if you wish it or not," she said with a note of finality in her voice. Raoul looked away from her for a time.

"I love you, Christine," he whispered. Christine felt several tears catch on her lashes.

"Raoul...there is no way in heaven I will ever be able to forget you, I want us to still be friends, we can do that, can't we?" she asked hopefully. Raoul hesitated. Could he be her friend when he would always remember the love they could have shared?

"Yes, Christine, I would very much luke us to be friends," he said softly. Christine smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Thank you for understanding, Raoul," she whispered in his ear. He nodded, fighting back the emotion he felt. He had lost his Little Lotte, but in all reality she had never been his.

**A/N: If you have not noticed I have not made Raoul a bad guy in here, I decided to give him a break, and he is only acting on his love for Christine, I hope you do not all hate him that much! Please Review!**


	12. Tempest

"I don't want to wake up and realize

what I was dreaming was right in front of my shut eyes.

I don't want to stop saying hellos for fear of saying good-byes."

**Chapter Twelve**

**Tempest**

"Where is Master Erik, Anita?" Christine asked. Raoul had allowed her to come back to Erik after their conversation and she was glad that he had understood. The look in his eyes would be with her for a while and she had to push her guilt away. She was where she belonged.

"Oh, Mademoiselle! Do not go near him!" Anita cried, clasping Christine's hands and looking at her with unmistakable fear in her eyes.

"What are you talking about, Anita?" Christine asked, frowing. Was it always something? Could there never be peace?

"He has gone mad! I swear by the heavens that man is insane!" she cried wildly. Christine looked the woman firmly in the eyes. She did not like the other woman speaking of Erik in such a way.

"Tell me slowly, Anita, what is going on!" Christine said.

"The master! He is destroying his room! I could hear things being thrown against the wall as I passed! He is cursing violently, Mademoiselle!" the maid said. Christine pulled away and began to run down the hallway, ignoring for the moment Anita's cries. What was going on with Erik? Was this just a fit of temper? She prayed that was not the case, his temper frightened her.

Hesitantly she opened the door to his chambers, a small gasp coming to her lips as she viewed what was before her. Glass and other broken objects lay strewn across the floor. The drapes were ripped from the rods that held them in place. The pillows had been ripped to shreds, their feathers decorating the torn sheets.

Erik's mask had been taken from his face and was lying at her feet. She bent and picked it up with shaking hands. Erik sat in a corner of the room, his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs. Christine approached him as silently as she was able, her heart racing in her chest. When she reached him she sat down beside him and laid her hand on his shoulder.

His head snapped up with the force of his surprise. His tear filled eyes stared into her own and Christine stared in disbelief at the immense sorrow she saw there. The mangled side of his face for once was not something she was thinking about. She wanted to know what had caused this sudden anger and sadness.

"Erik...what happened?" she whispered. He continued to stare. She reached out and pushed several of his tears away from his face and smiled at him.

"Erik?" she prompted.

"C-Christine?" he whispered, as if he did not believe she was there in front of him. She chuckled softly.

"Yes, Erik, who did you expect?" she asked.

"You came back?" he whispered. Now Christine frowned. What was he talking about.

"Of course, Erik, why would I not?" she whispered.

"The Vicomte," he said so softly she almost did not hear him.

"What?" Christine asked. How had he known of that?

"You went to him, Christine! I gave you a chance that night in the cellar to choose who it was you wished to be with. For reasons I cannot understand you chose me!" he said, needing to hear it desperately.

"Yes, I chose you, Erik!"

"Then why did you go to meet him?" he demanded.

"I did not! I thought it was Meg writing to me but it had been Raoul! He had wanted me to go with him and I told him I belong with you!" Christine said. He glanced down at her hand and saw the ring he had given her still where it had first been put.

When he had followed her it had been with the intent of making sure she was safe. His heart had been torn from his chest when he seen the Vicomte climb into the carriage. The idea that Christine would accept his hand and then sneak off to another man hurt worse then when he had thought she would leave him that night in the cellar.

"Erik," Christine whispered suddenly. He looked up at her and he saw tears in her eyes. She leaned forward and kissed him, her body trembling against him. He groaned and slowly kissed her back. But this time it was more then the chaste kisses they had shared previously. This time all of the anger Erik had been holding in turned into passion.

Gently his hand grasped her head and brought her closer. Christine willingly complied. With a slow stroke he ran his tongue against the seam of her lips, his whole body trembling. Christine moaned ever so softly against his mouth before opening her own. Erik's tongue entered her mouth for a sweet and slow exploration. Christine leaned forward and her hands rested lightly on his chest.

Erik had always imagined kissing Christine this way but the reality far outweighed the fantasy. Nothing could compare to this feeling. He groaned when he felt his body reacting and pulled away. Christine's eyes opened to stare at him with a glazed expression. He pushed some of her curls from her face. She smiled.

"You are beautiful," he whispered. She blushed and looked away.

"Thank you, Erik...I am sorry you got the wrong impression with Raoul and I," she whispered. He nodded.

"Christine...about the marriage...you still wish-"

"Yes, Erik!" she said hastily. A small smile spread across his face.

"How soon?" he asked. Christine blushed at her impatients but she needed to desperately put the doubt from his mind about her feelings.

"Soon," she whispered. He nodded. Christine looked around the room and sighed, shaking her head.

"Erik. You really need to control your temper," she admonished. He sighed and stood.

"You are right," he answered truthfully. Christine stood as well.

"Would you like to help me clean up?" she asked. He nodded. As Christine walked across the room and began to clean things up Erik realized for the first time that he was not wearing a mask...it was still in Christine's hands.


	13. Union of a Nightingale and a Scorpion

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Union of a Nightingale and a Scorpion**

_Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without,_

_and know we cannot live within..._

Christine woke up to wind crashing against her window. Was that a good sign, to have it raining on your wedding day? Wedding day...the mere thought of it sent a little sliver of fear to her heart. But it was easily overpowered by her sense of anticipation.

It still seemed hard to believe that she was marrying Erik...her tutor, angel, guardian. But who would ever do if not him? Perhaps this would be the next step in proving to him that she really wanted to be with him. She knew it was hard for him to accept but she was more then willing to show him goodness and light.

"Mademoiselle?" Anita said, peeping her head through the door. Christine could not contain her smile.

"Come in, Anita," Christine said, sitting up in the large bed. Anita came in and went to Christine's wardrobe, pulling out her wedding dress that Erik had designed for her. Christine noticed the look on Anita's face and frowned.

"What is wrong?" Christine asked. The other woman shook her head. Christine sighed, not wishing to deal with the maid on this special day.

"Anita, please, tell me what is troubling you," Christine asked again. The maid sighed and looked Christine in the eyes.

"Mademoiselle...is this truly what you wish to do?" she asked. Christine frowned.

"What?" she asked.

"Mademoiselle...the master is not like other men..." Anita began. Christine became angry. How dare she question her actions!

"Leave the dress on the bed, I will get ready myself," she said. Anita could tell she had offended the young woman and tried to apologize, only to have Christine dismiss her. Christine once more thought about today and smiled, not allowing anything to ruin this for her.

**xXx**

Erik was pacing his room in long, trembling strides. Today...God, Christine and he were getting married! He, a monster with the face of the devil marrying one of God's angels. It had to be a sin. He had to be going to hell for this. But then he sighed. Hell was his destination anyways, this was just one more sin to add to a lifetime of sinning.

He doubted the priest Christine spoke of would even marry them once he was given a small glimpse of Erik. It still seemed surreal to him. He would never have been able to claim a woman as his own if Christine had not been willing to become his wife.

Wife...she was going to be his wife. Erik, the murderer, the monster, the infamous Phantom of the Opera was going to become the husband of one of the most beautiful creatures on the face of the earth. It was all incredibly ironic.

**xXx**

Christine felt her breath hitch in her throat as Erik took her hand and lightly kissed it, his gaze sweeping over her. Dusk had just begun to fall and they were about to get into the carriage that would bring them to the church. The driver of the carriage, a young man by the name of Jeoffrey, was going to be the witness to their union, although Christine believed he had had only agreed to it because he was terrified of Erik.

"Christine...you look lovely," he whispered. She smiled and allowed him to place her in the carriage. She could see how nervous he was and it made her smile. The Phantom of the Opera nervous on his wedding day, how sweet.

**xXx**

"Mademoiselle Daae, may I speak with you in private?" the priest asked. A low, threatening growl rumbled from Erik's throat and the Father glanced at him nervously, making the sign of the cross. Christine frowned and allowed the man to pull her some distance from Erik.

"Mademoiselle...this marriage, it is what you want?" he asked. Christine nodded.

"Yes, Father, I would not be here if I did not," she answered without hesitation. The priest glanced at Erik who looked rather annoyed at the interruption.

"Mademoiselle Daae, I have heard the rumors from the Opera, I believe I know who that is," he whispered. Christine sighed.

"Father, we wish to be married, I was hoping you could help us with that," Christine said. The older man sighed and nodded.

"Of course, Mademoiselle...it would be a pleasure."

**xXx**

"You may kiss the bride..."

Erik pressed trembling lips against his new wife's. He deepened the kiss, gently pushing his tongue into her mouth. Christine sighed against his mouth and slowly kissed him back. He could feel his whole body tense in his barely controlled passion. Christine pulled away first, smiling up at him.

Erik stared at her for a long time, wondering what he had done to be given such a gift as this woman...his wife...Christine Destler. The last name had been his...though he had almost forgotten what it was since he had never used it before tonight...tonight.

The idea struck him quite suddenly as he helped Christine back into the carriage. The wedding night...how could he have forgotten such a thing? Tonight they were supposed to consumate their marriage...the idea of seeing Christine naked seemed sinful...yet so tempting.

He knew much more about the art of making love then one would originally believe. He himself had never touched a woman in such a way but when he had been staying in Persia he had been witness to many of their orgies and had read much from books about such a thing.

But Christine was such an innocent, the idea of tainting her did not make him feel very well. Would she even wish to do such a thing with him? Kissing him was not that drastic but joining her body with his, that was truly the point of no return.

He had a feeling tonight was going to be a rather difficult night.


	14. Nightingale's Passion

_**If there ever comes a day **_

_**When we can't be together keep me in your heart,**_

_**I'll stay there forever...**_

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Nightingale's Passion**

Christine stared at her reflection in her room, needing to look wonderful for him tonight. She knew that tonight was the night in which she would become a woman in all sense of the word. If she was completely honest with herself she was rather nervous.

Growing up in the Opera House she was less innocent on some matters then some would originally believe. The older girls of the ballet corps were anything but modest when it came to their love affairs. She and Meg would giggle and blush at some of the things those girls would say with a hint of pride in their voice.

But the thing Christine had noticed the most was the difference of opinions. Some enjoyed it immensily and others wished not to speak of it, wishing they had never done such a thing. Christine had always been frightened of the idea of allowing a man to see and touch her while she was naked, the idea did not hold very much appeal.

Two things had caused her opinion to change rapidly. The first being when Meg had gone and made love to a man. Christine had been so shocked to hear her friend admit to doing such a thing. If her mother had ever found out Christine knew Meg would have been in for a rude awakening. But Meg had believed she was in love and the man, one of the _patrons _for the opera house before Raoul had come into the picture, had treated her well.

Meg had admitted she had enjoyed it but he had quickly pushed her to the side, never speaking to her again. Christine had always thought that she was not a very passionate woman but the night of Don Juan had had changed all that...because of Erik.

The words he had written for her to sing had been sinful and full of passion...when he had come out onto the stage and sang with her, running his hands down her body...Christine had known passion and desire then, and she wanted to experience that with Erik, who in his own right was a very passionate man.

She pulled the pins from her hair and allowed it to tumble down her back and shoulders as she studied the outfit she had chosen to present herself to Erik in. It was even more revealing then the little she had worn that night Erik had taken her down to his home in the opera.

The white corset was pulled tight, revealing her small waist and pushing her breasts up to where they were nearly spilling over the top. She wore matching panties and a transparent robe...nothing more. She felt slightly uncomfortable but wanted to look beautiful for Erik tonight. He deserved that much.

Slipping out of her room she slowly made her way towards his rooms, her heart pouding in her chest like a bird trying to get free. This was not sinful, he was her husband. Husband...that word meant much to Christine and it was hard to believe that they were now at this moment.

She did not knock, suddenly to nervous to do so. She quietly opened the door and went inside. Several candles illuminated the room and her eyes searched for Erik. He was standing by the window his back to her. She was suprised to find him shirtless in only a pair of black trousers. The scars on his back were once more there for her to see and she wished she could make them disappear along with all of the pain he must have suffered.

On silent steps Christine went to him, surprised he had not heard her. He must have been deeply in thought. Her slim hand reached out and touched the rough planes of his back. He stiffened at the feel of her cool hands and her breath fanning his flesh.

He turned to her, the surprise on his face more the evident. He had not believed that she would come to him tonight, thinking she would not wish touch him. Her clothing surprised him even more and he felt his body hardening in response to the sight of his angel clad so sinfully in front of his eyes. He said nothing as he looked at her, needing her to make the decision of whether or not they should do this.

The candlelight seemed to make her eyes glow as she reached out and ran her fingertips over the muscles of his chest. His heart began to pound as his body refused to move or touch her. Christine wanted to encourage him and slowly slipped her robe from her slim shoulders.

The sight of her made his resolve snap and he leaned forward, catching her mouth in a soft yet hungry kiss. Christine's hands went to grasp his shoulders. His arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled her close to him, knowing that these feelings would be forever imprinted in his memory. He pulled away to look into her eyes, surprised and aroused to see the glazed look in her eyes.

Perhaps this was not going to be as difficult as he had originally thought...

Needing to be in control he placed several kisses on her neck. Christine's head fell back at the feel of his warm lips pressing against her skin. Christine's hands trailed down his chest, pressing herself against him. He kissed her once more. Very gently he picked her up in his arms and carried her to his bed. He laid her down and simply looked at her.

He wanted to tell her how much it meant to him that she was with him like this, that she was willing to love him this way...but words seemed so inadequet. She held her hand out to him and Erik sat down beside her. She sat up as well and took his hands, placing them on the strings of her corset. His eyes found hers and remained there as he slowly pulled the strings lose. Her head fell back on her neck and she suddenly felt Erik's fingers slowly roam down the pale skin of her neck and down to where she was slowly being revealed to him.

Christine kissed him again, unable to help it. When her corset slowly fell to the floor she stared directly at Erik, wanting to see his reaction. For reasons unknown to her she was not embarrassed to bear in front of him like this. With hesitant hands he reached out and touched her, illicting a breathy moan from Christine's lips.

Gently he pushed her onto her back so not a single part of her was hidden from his gaze and his touch. Gently he began running his hands over her, his eyes remaining on hers, unbelieving the way she began to gasp softly for breath. Erik leaned forward and kissed her with renewed passion.

Christine's hands found their way to his back, gently running her hands over the scarred flesh. Erik shifted, laying his body down on hers. They both gasped at the feeling of their bare chests meeting. Christine buried her face against Erik's neck, the feelings overwhelming her as his hands softly caressed her breasts.

"Erik..." she breathed his name against his ear, her warm breath causing him to shiver. She kissed his ear and allowed him to slowly remove her only item of clothing, her undergarment. His long, musician hands slowly caressed the inside of her thigh which caused Christine to moan.

With little effort Erik had removed his trousers, leaving them both as vulnerable as the day they were born. Erik needed a moment to let the feeling of her naked against him fully sink in. Erik kissed her, his lips loving yet persistant.

A cry of pain erupted into the room then silence when Erik joined them together. He wiped the tears from her eyes, kissing them away and whispering to her how much it meant to him that she was with him like this. The pain disappeared and was replaced with intense pleasure. Christine's hands and mouth slowly encouraged Erik to continue. He moaned softly against her mouth as he ever so gently began to make love to the woman who meant everything to him.

Christine stared up at him, watching the emotions cross his face. She knew she was giving her angel a precious gift and it made it even more worth it. She had fallen deeply in love with this man and the feeling of being so close to him was amazing. This moment would forever be in her heart and soul. When they reached the ultimate summit it was her name that he cried out as they became one forever.


	15. Morning Dreams

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Morning Dreams**

_Better never to have met you in my dream _

_than to wake and reach for hands that are not there_...

Sunlight hit Erik's face the following morning, causing him to stir. He did not know when he had fallen asleep but it had been one of the most fulfilling sleeps he had ever had in his life. He felt her warm breath caressing the skin of his chest and looked down to see his angel resting beside him.

She looked so serene and beautiful. He felt as if he should wake up any moment and be back in the cellar beneath the opera house, only dreaming of his love for this woman. Erik thought back and knew he had done nothing to deserve this and he was sure nothing would come close.

Needing to know this was not a dream Erik softly pressed his lips to hers, coaxing her to wake. She sighed against his mouth, her lashes fluttering. Blue clashed with green in an intense stare...and she smiled. For some unknown reason he had expected her to scream or blanche when the memory came to her of what had happened, but no, she was smiling.

"Good morning, husband," Christine murmured happily, snuggling closer to him.

"Good morning, wife," he said, causing a soft laugh to come from her lips. She stretched and suddenly the entire lenght of her naked body was being pressed against him. He groaned and Christine caught his eye. She blushed when she realized what it was that had caused him to groan but she appeared hesistant.

Erik watched her trail her fingers down the muscle on his chest. He could tell there was something she wished to tell him but she looked frightened for some reason.

"What is it, ma petite?" he asked. Christine shook her head. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Tell me," he commanded. She blushed.

"I-I was worried...that-that..."

"Worried about what?" he asked. Christine buried her face against his chest.

"That I did not please you," she whispered. Erik gently turned her face to him, pressing his lips to hers.

"Never believe for a moment, Christine that you could ever do anything that would not please me," he insisted. Christine smiled against his lips.

"Thank you," she whispered. He smiled and gently rolled her beneath him. Christine looked up at him and wondered when she would be able to tell him that she loved him. Not now, now they would focus only on pleasure.

**xXx**

"Christine?" Erik said. Christine turned to him from her position at the window.

"Yes?" she asked. He hesitated and she wondered what he wanted to tell her. Finally he took a deep breath.

"I have some music and my piano ready, if you would like to sing?" he asked. Christine's first instinct was to say no. The thought of singing brought back to many memories of the things they had both gone through at the opera house. But she could see by the look in his eyes that it meant a lot to him.

"Alright, Erik," she whispered. She was his wife now, it was her duty to honour and cherish him and make him happy. If her singing made him happy she would do so. She followed him out of her room and down to the music room silently, neither saying a word. He had the drapes pulled and only candlelight illuminated the room. Erik sat down at the piano and ruffled through some music sheets while Christine stood nervously by the piano. When he found the one he was looking for he nodded to her and began to play.

Christine knew the song immediately, it was one her father used to play to her before she would go to sleep. She had shared it with Erik when she was younger and apparently he had written down the score. The idea of her father brought tears to her eyes but she pushed them down, knowing that he would be happy for her.

_When I'm alone I dream of the horizon and words fail me..._

Christine trailed off when Erik stopped playing to stand and come to her. He instructed her to continue and she did so, wondering what he was doing._  
_

_There is no light in a room where there is no sun  
and there is no sun if you're not here with me..._

One of Erik's hands was at the small of her back and the other on her chin, tilting her head up slightly higher. His hand on her back gently pressed, causing her to stand straighter. She realized he was instructing her on how to stand while she sung, something he could only tell her to do when he had been the Angel of music. Now he could actually be a teacher to her in all sense of the word.

_  
From every window unfurls my heart the heart that you have won.  
Into me you've poured the light,  
the light that you found by the side of the road..._

His hands were on her waists, slightly below her breasts as he stood in front of her. Christine was finding it difficult to concentrate when the feel of his hands reminded her of what they had shared the night before.

"Use your diaphram to breath, Christine," he instructed, indicating what he meant. She did as she was told and noticed it was slightly easier to sing and keep her breath. She glanced at Erik as they continued and noticed he was not fazed in the least by touching her so, when he was doing something important to him it seemed everything else did not exist.

_Time to say goodbye.  
Places that I've never seen or experienced with you.  
Now I shall, I'll sail with you upon ships across the seas,_

Christine had no idea what this lesson was doing to Erik. He was glad he had decided to wear a cloak this day because his body was suddenly very much aware of the beautiful body next to him and what he had already shared with her._  
_

_seas that exist no more,  
it's time to say goodbye._

The next verse was meant to be sung by a male to the woman singing with him and Erik easily picked up the words, standing close in front of his wife as the words spilt forth from his lips.

_When you're far away I dream of the horizon and words fail me.  
And of course I know that you're with me,  
You, my moon, you are with me.  
My sun, you're here with me _

Christine looked up at Erik, who was so close she could feel his breath as he sang to her. His hands were on her waist and the feel of his warm body almost caused her to lose concentration. His voice alone, when he continued the song, had her in complete and utter ecstasy.

_Time to say goodbye.  
Places that I've never seen or experienced with you.  
Now I shall, I'll sail with you upon ships across the seas,  
seas that exist no more,_

Christine pressed herself closer to her, resting her head on his broad chest. His arms wrapped around her and he rested his head on her chin as the next words were sung together and in perfect harmony.

_I'll revive them with you.  
I'll go with you upon ships across the seas,  
seas that exist no more,  
I'll revive them with you.  
I'll go with you._

_You and me._

Erik pressed a kiss to her temple and held her close for a long time, reveling in the fact that she was with him like this and that their song was so right together. He had grown up with music being his only companion, the one thing that never turned from him despite what he looked like. It had been both a mother and a father to him as a child who no one wanted to care about.

No one had ever had the capability to match him when it came to song, no ones voice had ever blended with his, he could simply hear them and know it was not right. But Christine was his other half. Her song made him whole, it completed that large part of him that had always been empty before. Her acceptance had finally made him feel like a man who was used to only being a monster.

Erik told himself that he was going to make her happy no matter what it was he had to do. She now was the only reason he was alive and if anything happened to her he would cease to exist.

**xXx**

"Is it not a beautiful afternoon?" Christine asked Anita, who was at the moment cleaning out Christine's old room. All of her things were to be moved to Erik's rooms and Christine had offered to help the other woman while Erik worked in his music room.

"It is, Madam," Anita agreed. Christine knew the other woman knew what she and Erik had done last night...and that morning and Christine had the feeling that she did not agree with it.

"Why is it, Anita, that you fear Erik, Anita?" Christine asked innocently. The other woman looked at her in surprise.

"Madam?"

"Why do you fear Erik? Is it the mask?" she wondered, deciding that if she could accept him then this woman would as well.

"I suppose, Madam...we all fear that which we do not understand," she replied. Christine said nothing although she knew what the other woman meant. It had been a long time that she never truly understood her Angel of Music, she was still getting to know him now, and they were married!

"Alright, let's bring this to the other room," Christine said, grabbing a handful of her dresses in her arms. She turned and started walking toward the door, expecting Anita to follow.

Christine cried out suddenly when a sharp pain entered her head was Anita's satisfied laughter...then darkness.


	16. Phantom's Rage

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Phantom's Rage**

Anger is a killing thing: it kills the man who angers,

for each rage leaves him less than he had been before-

it takes something from him.

Later that evening Erik went to his room to find Christine, wishing to speak with her merely for the pleasure of hearing her voice. He frowned when he saw that she was not there. Wondering where she could have gotten to he began to look in the places he would most likely find her.

When that did not work he began to get worried. Where the devil was she? Had he not told her never to wander off without letting him know where she was going? He was to old to be chasing around after her! He saw Anita walking down the hall towards him and hastened his steps, wondering if perhaps she knew where Christine might be.

"You!" he growled. The woman jumped like a rabbit who had just been spotted by the wolf.

"Yes, Sir?" she whisperered, looking down at the ground.

"Where is my wife?" he asked. Anita hesitated, as if thinking where she had last seen Christine.

"I do not know, Sir, she helped me clean her rooms out and then she went off somewhere," she replied. Erik muttered something under her breath. He turned and stalked away, determined to give Christine a talking to when he found her.

Loud banging could be heard on the front doors and before he could go and see who it was one of the stable boys burst through them. He halted in his steps when he saw Erik, shrinking slightly in fear.

"How dare you come into my home without permission?" Erik hissed, his anger at Christine being lashed out at anyone foolish enough to get in his way.

"Monsieur-the Madam-"

He could not finish his sentence, looking ready to drop in a faint at the sight of Erik. Erik stalked toward him, beyond angry now. How dare this boy interrupt him when he was looking for Christine. He grabbed the boy around the neck and shoved him against the nearest wall.

"Y-your w-w-w-wife!" he managed to gasp. Erik let go of him immediately. The boy slumped to the floor, gasping for breath.

"Where is she?" he demanded, ready to grab the boys throat again.

"The stables!" he moaned, rubbing the bruise that was already beginning to form on his sun bronzed skin. With a whirl of his cloak Erik had left the house, glad it was night in Paris. He felt more comfortable with the shadows protecting him from any unwanted eyes.

Lights illuminated the stables and as Erik quietly entered he noticed the large group of stable hands all surrounded around a figure that was lying in the straw. He felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

"Get away from her," he hissed, somehow knowing it was Christine. The men all turned to look fearfully in his direction, only the white of his mask being illuminated in the dull light. They all watched in fascinated horror as he seemed to extinguish all of the candles with a single twirl of his cloak. The men all stumbled away from Christine, trying to find purchase in the dark.

With the darkness to cover him he went to Christine, able to see her clearly in the blackness. Her skin was pale and a small trickle of blood was pooled at the corner of her mouth. He began to gather her into his arms when his hand came away sticky and moist. He brought it to his nose to smell...blood. He found the wound on the back of her head.

A broken moan came to his mouth and it was inhuman and unlike anything the men around him had ever heard. They scrambled further back, wishing they could see him so they knew where to protect themselves.

Erik gathered her into his arms and wrapped his cloak around her, leaving the stables as quietly as he had come. When they were surrounded in light once more Erik could not look at her as he carried her limp body to their room, knowing if he did he would lose his fragile grasp on reality.

When he reached their room he laid her down gently on the bed, sobs beginning to wrack his body as he looked at her, so near death. Her pusle was weak and fluttering and a few more hours and he knew she would have been gone from him forever. He would be damned before he allowed that to happen.

**xXx**

Erik stared thoughtfully into the flickering flames of the fire. He had built it in the hopes of warming the room for Christine and now he stared into it because he could not look at her fragile body on the bed so helpless and lifeless.

Who would dare strike her in his home, with the obvious intent of murder? Why had he not been there to protect her when he needed her? Was it not his job as her husband? Had she called out to him for help and he had not heard? That idea made him sick inside.

He would find out who did this to her and he would make them pay dearly for every laying a hand on her in the first place.

**xXx**

Christine head was pounding unmercifully and she felt ready to vomit as she slowly opened her eyes. She was beneath several thick blankets and a fire blazed in the fireplace making her quite warm. She felt a warm, heavy arm lying across her stomach and turned her head to see Erik lying beside her, a slight frown on his lips while he slept.

She gently touched her temple and felt the bandages Erik must have wrapped around her head. She remembered nothing after the point of leaving Erik's music room and that blank was frightening to her. She shifted slightly and Erik's eyes opened. He stared at her a long time, as if trying to believe that he was not dreaming.

"My head hurts, Erik," she whispered, wishing he would say something. Erik sat up and looked down at her, concern written in his eyes.

"Do not move, I think you have a concussion," he whispered, going to get her a glass of water. He returned and gently placed it upon her lips. She drank it thankfully and Erik settled himself beside her again.

"What happened?" she whispered. Erik frowned.

"You do not remember?" he asked, highly concerned. She shook her head.

"I remember being in your music room, singing...then nothing," she whispered. This was not good, not only did it mean she had been hit harder then he had originally believed but it also meant she did not remember who it was that had hit her.

"Someone hit you," he said. Her eyes grew round.

"Why?" she whispered.

"I have no idea, but I plan on finding out."


	17. A Scorpion's Emotions

**Chapter Seventeen**

**A Scorpion's Emotions**

_**"**Love doesn't make the world go round,  
Love is what makes the ride worthwhile."_

Christine sat in her and Erik's bed as she hummed softly to herself and read one of the books from Erik's library. Her head still hurt if she got up to quickly or stood for any period of time so Erik made her stay in bed as much as possible. When Erik's hand gently touched her cheek she jumped in surprise, not having heard him come in. She opened her mouth to say something but he pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her.

She gasped softly against his lips when he suddenly kissed her with all the passion she knew he was capable of. Gently he took the book from her hand and set it aside, pushing her onto her back as he continued to kiss her. Christine's fingers tangled into his hair and she allowed him to devour her mouth with all the passion she craved.

Erik pulled back slightly so he could part her robe and expose her flesh to his hands and his mouth. His eyes pleaded with her to understand how much he loved her and how much he needed this. Christine smiled and pulled him closer to her. Erik kissed her and she could feel the way he was trembling against her.

"I love you, Erik..." she whispered. Erik stopped moving, his eyes meeting hers. She smiled.

"Christine, I-"

"Shh, do not say anything until it feels right," she whispered, pressing a hand to his mouth to silence him. He nodded and kissed her fingers, one by one. Christine smiled. She knew he was not aware of it but he was becoming more and more comfortable around her, something that made her heart sing. She helped him remove his shirt and and jacket.

Her small hands smoothed over his chest and back and she willingly kissed the flesh revealed to her. She needed this closeness with him. He was the only one she had in the world who she loved so much she would willingly give her life for. She gasped softly when he removed his trousers and boots, still slightly unused to the feeling of him naked against her.

She knew he had yet to find the person who had hit her and she knew it was making him angry. But she was surprised he had come to her for his pleasure. He had been so cold and distant lately she had not know what to think, wondering if he felt anything for her anymore. Suddenly overcome with emotions Christine pressed her face into the hollow between his shoulder and neck.

Erik could suddenly feel her hot tears against his skin and he frowned, wondering what he had done to make her cry. He tried to pull away but she clutched frantically at him with her slim arms.

"Why are you crying, angel?" he whispered. She pressed closer.

"I thought you no longer cared for me," she whispered brokenly.

"What would make you think such a thing?" he asked. Christine turned away from him, feeling ashamed of herself. Erik gently forced her to look at him and he did not like the tears she so gallantly tried to hide.

"You have been so distant lately, Erik," Christine whispered. Erik immediately felt guilty. He had been so caught up in finding who it was that would dare to hurt her that he had not realized that for some unknown reason she needed him as much as he needed her. She was as alone as he, and he had been virtually abandoning her.

"I know I have not been a very good husband, Christine," he said, just as quiet. He pulled her close and stroked her cheek.

"I just want to spend time with you, Erik," she whispered. Erik sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. He wanted to tell her what made him the way he was in a way she would understand.

"Christine, all my life I grew up knowing that I was going to be alone. I accepted that until I met you. Even then I was aware that your love for the Vicomte could easily outweight your love for me. It is still hard for me to believe you are my wife," he whispered. Christine ran her hands down his chest, realizing he was going to open up for the first time. He turned to her and pressed a kiss to her lips.

"I still cannot believe that your are lying in my arms like this. It is sometimes hard for me to remember that you are here with me because I always believe I am dreaming," he whispered. Christine slowly straddled his hips, not entirely sure what she wanted to do but knowing she had to do it. Erik looked up at her in surprise and grasped her hips so she would not fall. She braced her hands on his chest and very slowly impaled herself on him. Erik's eyes rolled back in both pleasure and surprise, unbelieving that his little angel was being so naughty.

"You are not dreaming, Erik," she gasped.

Erik helped her begin a movement that gave them both pleasure. The fact that she was willing to let him touch her would have normally been enough to make him climax but he wanted to see her face sufused with pleasure. Soon Christine could not support herself enough to stay upright and collapsed on his chest, his body still moving deeply within hers.

Christine rained kisses all over his face, wanting him to know how much she loved him. She knew how hard life must have been for him but she needed to show him that someone in this world loved him and cared for him. The way he gasped and moaned her name as they made love was enough for Christine to know that he loved her, even if he had yet to say the words.

His climax came upon him hard and he rolled her beneath him, shuddering into her neck as Christine gave a soft cry of pleasure. Erik pulled the sheet over them and held her tightly to him, refusing to ever let her go. He was going to give her more of his time because she meant everything to him, nothing and no one else mattered except for the woman in his arms.


	18. Wounded Nightingale

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Wounded Nightingale**

Christine stared out of the window at the dark sky as she laid in Erik's arms. She could hear his even breathing behind her and it gave her peace to know he was sleeping so soundly because she was with him. Earlier, when he had come to her to make love, it had been a moment she knew she was not going to forget for as long as she lived.

When she had first come here she had feared him as the Phantom who had made life miserable at the opera. She would never have imagined that she would come to love him this much. It almost did not seem natural. How could anything this strong be natural?

She believed that now she knew how much he loved her all this time because she felt the same. Growing up as a child she had always imagined that she would be married to a man like Raoul, handsome and charming. Well her husband was completely opposite of that and yet she loved him more then she could have ever loved Raoul.

But perhaps she had known that she would always belong to Erik in some way. She had loved her Angel of Music with all her heart and had always imagined him as a real man. Well now she had a living breathing Angel and she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

With a trembling hand she laid her palm against her stomach. Perhaps in time she would become pregnant with his child. Imagining a baby with dark hair and beautiful eyes Christine smiled. He would be brilliant, just like his father. And he would have an appreciation for music from a young age. She smiled at the idea of the infamous Phantom of the Opera a father.

She had a feeling he would be a good father. When he loved something he loved it completely and without reservation, that was one of many reasons why she loved him so much. But she got ahead of herself, first she would have to get pregnant before she thought about Erik as a father.

She turned in his arms so their faces were mere inches apart and she could feel his breath on her face. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift into sleep.

xXx

Erik, even in sleep, pulled Christine closer to him. It had become natural to have her in his arms, because now that she was there he could not bear the thought of losing her. She was the only thing keeping him from the constant madness that seemed to be so much apart of him. Her acceptance of him had truly made him a man. And for the first time in his life he felt like one.

"I love you, Christine," he whispered into the darkness.

xXx

Christine screamed. The sound echoed in the silent room and Erik's eyes opened to stare in absolute horror as Christine clutched the dagger that was protruding from her chest. For as long as Erik lived he would never forget the sight of all that blood on Christine's perfect body. His eyes snapped to the woman standing above his wife.

"Anita!" he growled. She backed away, making a dash for the door. Erik was off the bed faster then she could blink. He wrapped his arms around her neck in a grip that stopped the air in her throat.

"Why? Why?" he demanded her, shaking her roughly by the neck. Her eyes began rolling back in her head and he loosened his grip enough for her to draw breath and answer him. He could hear Christine whimpering behind him and knew he had to get to her soon.

"S-she m-m-means everything to you!" she spat. Erik felt his finger nails digging into the tender skin of her neck, drawing blood.

"And you would kill her because of that!" he screamed.

"You killed my brother!" she gasped. Erik's eyes rounded slightly in surprise.

"Your brother?" he demanded.

"Joseph Bouquet," she said, right before Erik's hands took her last breath. He dropped her to the floor, staring down at her in disbelief. Her brother had been that drunkard he had killed in the rafters?

"E-Erik!" Christine whispered. Erik was shaken from his thoughts from Christine's plea. He ran to her. The blade was lodged deeply into her right shoulder and she had already lost a sufficient amount of blood. She was trying to remove the blade and her tears ran freely down her cheeks.

"No, mon amour! You must not do that, you will only hurt yourself!" he said.

"I-it hurts...Erik," she whispered, her eyes fluttering as she began to slip into unconciousness.

"No! Christine, stay with me, please!" Erik said. Bracing his hand on her left shoulder he firmly grasped the hilt of the dagger and pulled. Christine's scream was blood curdling before everything became deathly quiet.

**A/N: I know it was a short chapter but better an update then none at all. I hope you guys enjoy it none the less, sorry once more. DonJuan**


	19. Survival

**Chapter Nineteen**

_"You should have protected her!"_

_"You should have stopped any of this from happening!"_

_"You should never have allowed her to choose the Scorpion!"_

_  
"Scorpion's sting, it is in their nature...you cannot change that! You cannot change nature!"_

_"You are what you are: a monster!"_

Erik was no stranger to the darkness of his own mind. He was used to the demons who whispered in his ear. Their taunting never bothered him that much until now. Now he could not stand it. He knew it was his fault that Christine was dying, he should have been there for her. She had given him everything she was and he had failed her.

Her pale hand lay coldly in his own. The ruby from her ring seemed to glow mockingly at him, reminding him of his failure as a husband. He had been so wrong to let Christine choose him. Grasshopper or Scorpion, he now knew whom he would have chosen. The scorpion was deadly, which he was proving with every strained breath Christine emitted.

Erik had known that he could not mend the wound and so had gone to the only man he knew would have no choice but to keep his appearence silent, the priest who had married him. Erik had told him the situation and the man had told him that he would find a reliable man to come to the manor to help her. He had had some of the servants bury Anita and they had done so in silence.

The doctor, a graying man, now stood on Christine's other side, sewing the wound shut. Erik had to look away from the sight because every stitch unraveled a peace of his soul. If she died he would kill himself, he had already made his decision. The pain of living without her was something that he would never be able to stand. He would face the fires of hell rather then the pain of living without her.

"Sir, she was lucky she did not hurt the little one," the doctor said. Erik froze, his gaze slowly landing on the doctor, who had to keep from shrinking back in fear.

"'Little one'?" Erik murmured. The doctor nodded.

"Yes, I do believe your wife is pregnant," he said. Erik's eyes landed on Christine's pale face. She was carrying his child.

"She will live?" Erik asked, his voice cold because he had to much on his mind at the moment.

"Yes, Monsieur, given a few weeks to rest and mend I do believe she will be fine," he said. The doctor could literally see the tension that left the masked man's shoulders.

"Thank you," he murmured. The older man nodded and slowly slipped from the room. Erik removed most of his clothing until he was only wearing his trousers before slipping into bed with Christine, careful not to move her. He continued to hold her hand, marveling at the fact that his baby was right that moment growing inside this woman.

He would make a life for the three of them, away from the people who would shun them. His mask was no longer something for him to be ashamed of. Christine loved him even with his face and he would learn to do the same. Acceptance was not something he took very lightly. He had been a child of the wilderness but had found his shelter in Christine's heart. His heart was no longer on its own.

"You must make it, Christine, for both of us..."

xXx

_Four years later..._

"Papa! Papa!"

Erik pulled away from Christine's lips with great reluctance to turn and face his son, who was running as fast as his legs could carry him. He hurtled himself into Erik's arms, laughing in delight. Erik smiled and swung him about. This caused the boy to laugh gleefully.

"Papa!" he squealed. Erik stopped the swinging to pull his son into his embrace.

"What has gotten you so excited, Gable?" he asked. The boy grinned, his green eyes twinkling.

"I caught a cricket!" he said triumphantly, waving his fist about.

"Really?" Erik wondered. He groaned when he opened Gable's fist only to find the small creature smashed. Christine giggled, only to make Gable's grin grow. Erik cleaned his sons hand and set him down on his feet, watching him scamper off back into the garden.

"He is too much like you," Christine giggled. Erik made a face.

"I do not go about killing crickets! They are great musicians," he muttered. Christine smiled at him and shook her head, placing a hand on her swollen stomach. Almost five years ago and she had chosen the scorpion instead of the grasshopper. Of course the grasshopper would have been a safer choice, but there was nowhere else she would rather be then in the arms of her scorpion...temper or not.

She had been surprised to hear that Anita had been related to Joseph and could understand the womans anger. But she refused to think about her or the past in the opera house. She had given birth to their son and she was happy. Erik was happy. That was all that mattered. And with the little one in her belly she knew that she could not ask for any more. She would never regret choosing Erik.

There was nothing to regret.

**Fin**


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